


Tied by Fate

by Peaches_onIce



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, bigbangonice2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peaches_onIce/pseuds/Peaches_onIce
Summary: For as long as he can remember, Yuuri has always been able to see the Red Strings of Fate. He uses figure skating and dance to distract him from fretting over his strings, but slowly, it’s those very choices that bring his soulmates to him. Soulmates!AUFor the Big Bang!!! on ICE event





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to Lydia for taking me on SUPER last minute and giving be tons of feedback and being my second pair of eyes! And to the artists, unknownbird27 and omtivi for putting up with my silence and inconsistent updates >_< and finally to the mods for putting this together! This is my first big writing project in years, and I'm so happy to have participated in my first bang!

[ Art by omtivi  
](https://orig00.deviantart.net/5a36/f/2018/046/8/3/bboipeachesonice1benang_by_omtivi-dc3a2fq.png) [[Tumblr link]](http://omtivi.tumblr.com/post/170930455380/finally-my-other-piece-for-bigbangonice-art%20)

 

Art by unknownbird27  
[[Tumblr link]](http://scribblingsky.tumblr.com/post/170947260445/but-all-of-that-seems-insignificant-when-faced)

++

“Why don’t my strings have someone at the end like yours and otou-san’s?” Yuuri’s pouting makes his chubby four-year-old face even cheekier.

His okaa-san marks the page in Yuuri’s book. “Strings?”

The question interrupts his okaa-san’s second retelling of his favourite bedtime story. During his favourite part too, but if he was being honest, he hadn’t been paying much attention to begin with. Okaa-san had been quick to notice though, how anxious he felt all day, because she’d brought out the katsudon and pile of soft blankets knowing it would help lift his mood.

Yuuri nods and took her left hand into both of his. “The red string,” he says, pointing to her little finger. “Can’t you see them?” The worried pouty frown she’d managed to lift from his face earlier was back.

His okaa-san wiggles Yuuri’s fingers and pulls his smaller hands up to press the gentlest of kisses to his fingertips. “Perhaps I’m not meant to see them, Yuu-chan. Can you describe them for me? Just a red string?”

Yuuri hesitates. He pushes aside the layers of blankets he’d been tucked into, sat up and fidgets with the edge of his blanket. Finally, he taps at her finger again, right on top of the tiny knot of a red string. “Yours is tied here,” he says as his gaze follows it out of his bedroom to wherever his otou-san is. “It’s red, and I can only see it if I stare really hard. And the end of your string is tied to Otou-san’s little finger too.” He tries to tug at her string but his fingers slip straight through.

“Mine are here,” he continues, focusing on his own strings. He tugs the top-most knot on his own left little finger. “This one is red and shiny—” he moves to the knot just below it— “and this one is also red, but not as bright. And sometimes, this one glitters instead.”

Hi wiggles in his spot with concern under his okaa-san’s pensive gaze. “If I look hard enough, almost everyone who comes to the onsen has one. Mari-nee-san has one too, but I didn’t see the ends of hers yet either.” Yuuri tugs at his strings some more now, stubbornly trying to somehow reach for whatever or whoever is at the end, but when it simply piles on his lap,  he just pouts some more and sighs.

“Oh, Yuuri,” His okaa-san coos. “Are you pulling on your strings?”

He shrugs. “I tried to pull them today, but it never ends.”

His okaa-san pulls him onto her lap into a hug. “Perhaps, just like I’m not meant to see these strings, it isn’t time for you to see the ends of yours.” She combs her hand through his hair, the soothing action making her red string sway beside him.

“Do you want to hear a story about these strings?” she asks.

He curls into her, hands eagerly holding hers as he nods. “Please.”

She smiles. “What do you know about soulmates?” she asks. A hesitant, confused expression blooms across Yuuri’s face. “Well, a soulmate is someone who is destined to be very special in your life.” She taps the spot he pointed to on his finger. “And I tell you this because, these red strings you see, I’m sure they’re the Red Strings of Fate. You’ll notice that no matter how much these strings of yours tangle or stretch, they will never break. These strings are ties around your little finger by the gods, and the people at the ends of these strings of yours will be very important to you.”

Yuuri’s eyes are bright with awe, the worry he’d been feeling all day fading into the background. “So my strings mean I’ll find someone like you and Otou-san?”

She pauses in contemplation before shaking her head. “It’s possible. But I can’t confirm that for you, Yuuri. We never know why the gods tie us to other people, only that they will be very special and important to our lives. Maybe they will be a very great friend, or perhaps they’ll be by your side as someone more. It will be up to you, and these people,” she taps his finger one more time, “to decide what you are to each other.”

A thoughtful look passes over Yuuri’s chubby features. His okaa-san kisses his cheek before tucking him back underneath the pile of blankets. “Please, try not to worry so much over it, Yuu-chan. When it’s time, you’ll know.” She stood up to leave, putting away his books and shutting off his light. He watches her pause by his doorway. “And Yuu-chan, try not to worry over the strings of others. Even if you can see them, let them discover it for themselves, okay?”

Yuuri gives her a sleepy nod. “Okay, Okaa-san. I promise.”

“Oyasumi, Yuu-chan.”

“Oyasumi.”

As the weeks pass following that conversation, Yuuri tries his best to take her words to heart and not worry so much over his strings or the strings of others. He does get a little distracted every now and then with every new passing customer, glancing at their hands before flushing and turning away to fidget and focus on his own strings instead.

That was until his Okaa-san brought him to Minako-sensei’s studio and enrolls him into dance with Mari-nee-chan. Mari lets the dancing fizzle out just before she reaches high school while, Yuuri takes to ballet like a duck to water as Minako-sensei likes to say. He’s motivated and mostly distracted from his curious strings. Best of all, he is happy.

++

When Minako-sensei offered to get him figure skating lessons for his sixth birthday, Yuuri was excited and yet nervous. “Will they like me?” he asked his okaa-san who cooed lovingly with an “Of course, Yuu-chan why wouldn’t they?”

He fidgets with his strings as he glances between Minako-sensei’s conversations with her friend at the counter of Ice Castle Hasetsu and the large ice rink behind him. He’d seen figure skating on the television before, whenever Minako-sensei was visiting the onsen and staying for a meal. But, it wasn’t anything near as breathtaking as it was in person. He watches as a teenager and an adult who must be his teacher, are finishing up a routine that looks similar to something Minako-sensei would have him do to warm up. When they start dancing on that ice, the spins and jumps and footwork… Yuuri’s breath is taken away. It reminds him of ballet, but with the wait they were gliding across the rink it looks more like flying. Something in his bones, his heart, his very _soul_ , tells him, “This is what we have to do.”

And so Yuuri does.

Minako-sensei has him signed up for beginner lessons starting the next day, but Yuuri wants on the ice now. She just mirrors his beaming grin. She has him quickly fitted into a pair of rentals so they can test out the ice.

“We’ll use these for now in case you change your mind,” Minako tells him as she shows him the proper way of lacing his skates. Yuuri is shaking his head knowing he won’t give this up. “We’ll look into getting you your own pair if you enjoy it, okay?”

After she brings him home from his first lesson, his cheeks are flushed and eyes are bright with happiness. “This is what I want to do,” he insists between thanking her a million times a second with an enthusiasm he didn’t know he had in him; especially after a bout of nervous energy that morning when he worried over meeting new people and making friends. “It was everything you said it would be, Minako-sensei!”

“Have I ever steered you wrong?” she asks him playfully. “Don’t think this means you can be slacking off in my classes, okay?”

Yuuri shakes his head earnestly. “I promise! I’ll work hard.” He loves ballet too much to give that up, but he knows that figure skating is it for him.

Minako-sensei ruffles his hair, and while normally he would have pouted at the action, he was too happy to complain and leans into the affection. “I know you will, kid.”

++

It’s not necessarily the grumpy pout adorning Yuuri’s chubby face that clues Hiroko in to the fact that something is bothering Yuuri. Rather, it’s the lack of fidgeting that’s almost a beacon of “something wrong” to her, especially when he’s upset. Today, his arms are crossed over his chest, hands tucked tightly to his side and out of sight.

She tries to think back to any offhand comments he’s made or any remarks from Minako-senpai or Ice Castle or even school, but nothing comes to mind. She knows Yuuri is doing alright in school; she’s received enthusiastic praise from his English teacher. And as far as she’s aware, Yuuri still loves dance and skating. She hums in thought. There was one mention from one of the teachers from Ice Castle, where Yuuri’s unexpectedly competitive streak pops up during practice in some odd quasi-rivalry/friendship with Nishigori-kun. She wonders if they may have gotten into an argument they didn’t resolve before lessons ended for the day.

Hiroko watches her children from the entrance of the dining space. Yuuri is pouting in the direction of the television, eyes glazed and unseeing. Mari, on the other hand, is flicking through the channels at an impossible speed. Hiroko knows her daughter is just trying to get a rise from her brother.

With a nod to herself, she approaches her children. “Mari-chan, please try to pick a channel before you break the remote,” she says earning a sheepish smile from her eldest in response. “Yuu-chan, we’re having katsudon tonight, did you want to help me make it?”

Yuuri’s sulk lightens as he turns his attention to her. “Can I bread the pork?”

Hiroko pats his shoulder as they walk towards the kitchen, all the while Yuuri’s arms slowly unfold themselves. “Of course,” she says and Yuuri’s pout is almost instantly gone.

They’re working side by side at the counter in silence; sometimes Toshiya wanders in, tray in hand with empty glasses and bowls. “What’s on the menu this evening?” he asks on his most recent visit, peeking over their shoulders. “Katsudon?”

Yuuri nods. “Did you want extra eggs in yours, Otou-san?”

“That’d be lovely, Yuuri,” Toshiya replies as he sets back out to clear more dishes. Silence takes over the kitchen once more and Hiroko patiently waits to see if Yuuri will open up. She knows he usually does after he’s cleared his doubts enough to voice them.

It’s while Yuuri is mixing in the vegetables that he breaks the quiet. He pauses mid-stir, bringing the bowl down onto the table and turns to her. “I don’t understand why Yuuko-san would have a string tied to Nishigori-san.”

It’s as though a bright lightbulb springs up in her mind; she smiles fondly at the thought of her shy boy’s first real friend. “I thought you were going to try and leave the strings be for now, Yuu-chan.”

He doesn’t look deterred or guilty at his peeking and simply shrugs. “I thought maybe… Yuuko-san would be one of my strings.” His cheeks and ears get rosy at his admission. “She’s so nice. And helpful! And I thought—” He cut himself off and frowns. “I peeked. And I just don’t understand. I thought soulmates were supposed to be special to each other and Nishigori-san..”

Hiroko let him trail off knowing all about the rough-housing Yuuri and Nishigori sometimes get into. She rinses her hands and kneels by Yuuri to match his height. “Remember what I told you. We may never know why the gods choose the partners they do for us, but there’s a reason,” she tells him. “You might not see anything special between Yuuko-chan and Nishigori-kun, now or ever, but it’s there.” She ruffles her hand through his hair and lets him hug her tight. “Seeing these strings of fate, Yuuri, is special in itself, but understanding the reasoning behind them is something we’re most likely never meant to know.”

“I don’t like not understanding.” He pouts.

Hiroko chuckles. “I don’t imagine any of us like feeling confused, but until the gods decide to enlighten us,” she taps the spot on her finger that Yuuri pointed out all that time ago, “We’ll never really know the ‘why… just that is it. Okay?”

Yuuri sighs in defeat, but nods.

“And, Yuu-chan. Don’t let this red string ruin any friendships you may or may not have. Just because Yuuko-chan isn’t your red string, doesn’t mean she isn’t meant to be your friend. Or that she won’t be special to you.” She can see the thought running through her boy’s mind and gives him one more comforting hug.

“Thanks, Okaa-san.”

She smiles. “You’re most welcome.”

++

It’s on March 1st, right after school, when eight-year-old Yuuri notices that he has a third string on his finger. He’s about to open his locker to switch from his indoor shoes to his outdoor ones when that third string sways with the others. At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, but no. It’s there; a soft red color, subtle in its brightness that doesn’t glitter or shine. He freezes in his spot. Momentarily panicking, he wonders if he woke up with it but had been too distracted with the math test and his dance practice that morning to even notice… did it show up because the person was near? Had he said something? Done something that made the gods decide to tie another knot?

“Everything okay, Yuuri?” someone’s question jolts him from his thoughts. Startled back into action, he slams his locker shut with a loud bang. He turns next to him and sees Mari looking at him with a raised brow. Right, they walk home together when he has no practice.

“Mari-nee-san. Sorry, did I make you wait long?” he shoves his left hand into his pocket, out of sight, and for now out of mind. He turns his attention back to his locker to continue on with his previously forgotten task of switching his shoes.

He sees her shrug from the corner of his eyes. “I saw you from the doorway, but you looked a little lost. Did your test go alright?”

“Test?” he echoes as he shelves his indoor shoes back in his locker and closes it behind him.

Mari frowns. “Math test? Wasn’t that today?”

“O-oh. Yes. Math test.” He nods. “It went okay. A-actually, Onee-san. I think I’m going to go to Ice Castle. Tell Okaa-san for me.

“Okay? If you’re sure.” Mari doesn’t look surprised by his need to go skating, but accepts his quick hug of appreciation. “You didn’t bring your skates, though?”

Yuuri was already rushing away from her. “I’ll borrow a pair for today, thank you!”

He misses the way she smiles somewhat exasperatedly yet fondly at his retreating form, but he does hear her call out, “Try not to be out too late!”

When he makes it to the front desk, Yuuko-chan is helping her mother out. “Oh, Yuuri!  I thought there wasn’t any practice today?” she asks leaning over the counter.

He shuffles his feet, feeling his face warm. “There isn’t, but, um. Can I borrow some skates for an hour? I… I just need to do some figures.” He glances from her to her mother. They both smile back at him, matching bright smiles, both used to the dedication he has to skating. Yuuko’s mother pulls out a rental in his size.

“Have fun!”

He’s rushing to the changing rooms, shoving stuff into his usual locker. With a quick warm up, he’s laced up in record time and only when he’s on the ice does he breathe out a sigh in relief. The ice was smooth, having just been cleaned, and there was no one else practicing yet; the next class doesn’t start for another two hours. He lets the chill of the arena settle in to soothe his worries while the sound of his blades carving through the ice cuts through his nerves.

When his emotions calm, he slows his pace on his figures. He brings his hand up to look at his new string. It tangled slightly with his brightest string. Why now? Why another one? Especially since he hasn’t even met the ones he’s already got. He takes another deep breath, his okaa-san’s voice in his head telling him, “Patience. Patience, Yuu-chan. You’ll know soon enough.”

The sound of his blades cutting through the ice is sharp in his ears as he comes to an abrupt stop. ‘Soon’ isn’t soon enough. Maybe this third string was a sign? Time to look for whoever is at the ends? He wouldn’t know unless he tries.

A quick glance at the digital clock hanging at the far end of the rink, he notices his time is nearly up. Slowly doing one more round, he drifts towards the exit to head back to the lockers and head out.

“Done for the day?” Yuuko asks as he’s leaving the locker room and bringing back the rentals.

He smiles shyly at her and nods. “Yes, thank you for letting me come by, I really needed it.”

She waves her hand at him, “Don’t worry about it, we like having you here. Get home safe, okay? And I’ll see you tomorrow! We can practice our spins?”

Yuuri nods and waves behind him as he leaves Ice Castle. Then he stares at his hand and his string. From where he’s standing, his brightest string and his newest string tangle together just a little, going the same direction heading roughly northwest (if his map awareness is correct anyway). He contemplates following these strings, knowing there’d be a higher chance of probably finding at least one of the ends if he goes in that direction. Instead he hesitates. He isn’t quite familiar with that area of Hasetsu, never really having explored it on his own before. And without knowing how far it’d go, there’s no knowing how long it’d take to get to that end and back home in time before it got dark, or for supper, or at least at a time that wouldn’t worry his family.

He decides then, that his best try would be his last string. It glitters almost tauntingly as it leads southwest, almost in direction of home. Taking hold of this string, he walks down the same road he usually takes going home from Ice Castle. He’s passing by the same shops he does almost every day, but with sharper eyes, hoping with everything he has that there’s some secret nook, some secret turn he has to take that will lead him to one of his soulmates.

He reaches the end of the road. If he turns left, he’d be heading home, but his string was leading him to the right, near the beach. Was his soulmate at the beach? Near the beach? He quickly crosses the street, heading down the stairs that leads straight to the water. He’s power walking now because he sees someone, all the way at the end of the beach and maybe, just maybe his soulmate is waiting for him there. Would it be weird? Would it be safe?

Yuuri slows his steps. Maybe he should have brought Mari-nee-san with him, instead of trying to meet a stranger alone. But. Yuuri shakes his head. No, his okaa-san told him soulmates were supposed to be someone special to him. He didn’t think anyone who would hurt him could be someone he’d consider special.

He sees the shadowed figure at the end of the beach moving. But it wasn’t clear what they were doing. Packing up and leaving maybe? Yuuri’s breath hitches as he shuffles in his spot. Should he? Was this it? He takes slow hesitant steps towards the end of the beach and finally, the figure seems to be walking towards him.

Yuuri’s heart drops.

His string doesn’t sway or move as the figure approaches; not like how his okaa-san and otou-san’s do. He looks down at his string. At the way it continues pointing straight ahead of him.

“Okay, Katsuki-san?” the figure, now that he was closer, was a teenager he’d seen his sister hang out with sometimes. He’s never learned his name, but the boy waves politely. Yuuri responds with a nod, unsure if his voice would sounds as sure as he’d look. The disappointment is heavy in his chest.

“Tides coming in,” the teen says, as he’s waving goodbye and walking away.

Yuuri doesn’t watch him leave. Instead he walks closer to the edge of the beach, just shy of where the water rolls closer to him. He stares at his string that pointed out into the ocean. His soulmate is either currently out of the country, or they didn’t live in Japan. He lets out a shaky breath at the realization. Did _any_ of his soulmates live in Japan?

He’s solemn as he walks away from the edge of the beach. He plops down onto the sand by the stairs, watching the waves come and go. What did that mean for him, if they didn’t live in Japan? Would they one day come to Japan? Or would he meet them outside of Japan? Or… or was he never meant to meet them at all?

He’d seen it a few times at the onsen; couples who weren’t tied to one another like his okaa-san and otou-san... And he knew. He could hear his okaa-san’s voice again, reminding him that soulmates didn’t necessarily mean romantic partners. But. When he looks at his parents, he just sees what he hopes he’ll share one day.

Yuuri isn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there for, knees pulled up tight to his chest. Head resting in his hands as he watches the sky slowly darken and the tide come in quicker.

“Ahh, Ryuu-san mentioned you were at the beach, but I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

This time, Mari’s voice didn’t startle him. Perhaps too tired, physically and emotionally to give her a proper reaction. “Everything okay, Yuuri?” She asks him for the second time that day.

Yuuri nods. “Just thinking.”

Mari laughs lightly. “I can see. Wanna talk about it?”

He turns to look at her, he glances at her red string he’s never told her about and frowns. “Do…” he sighs. “Nee-chan, do you think you’d ever leave Hasetsu?” He asks.

She blinks at his question. Clearly whatever she thought was worrying him wasn’t about leaving home. “Well… sometimes I think about going to Tokyo. For school maybe?” she shrugs, shoving her hands into her hoodie’s pockets. “But I think I’d come back after, help out at the onsen? Maybe take over when Okaa-san and Otou-san retire.”

It’s his turn to blink. “You want to take over the onsen?”

Mari smiles. “Family business and all. Someone should, and I have a feeling taking over the onsen isn’t in your imeediate future plans.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No! No, I want to help out at the onsen too.”

Mari waves her hand. “I know, but I mean, you have another career goal in mind. Just because I don’t always join in on the conversation, doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re going to be an athlete of some sort, Yuuri. Minako-sensei is convinced you’d be competition ready soon if you’re interested.”

That’s true. Minako-sensei has mentioned competing in either figure skating or even dance. “You have the drive and the grit,” she’d tell him. “You’re competitive enough. I see it between you and Nishigori-kun.”

“I suppose,” Yuuri whispers. “I never really thought of it.”

“Until now, I’m guessing,” Mari asks. “Are you worried about it? Because we will support you if you want to compete. You have to know that, Yuuri.” When he doesn’t reply. She shakes her head in fond exasperation and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I think your skating can take you places if ever that’s something you’re thinking about.” She’s nudging him up, but quietly leaves him to his thoughts as they walk home.

Yuuri takes one last look out to the ocean and wonders. Hasetsu will always be home. Always. He knows that as well as he knows that skating is it for him. And so maybe… he nods to himself. Maybe this would be the last time he’d dedicate this much effort for his strings… at least for now.

++

He does his best not to think about his strings after that revelation. His okaa-san is right. Focusing on his strings wouldn’t get him anywhere. When it’s time, it will come. But for now…

Yuuri is introduced to the world of competitive figure skating and he jumps right in. It becomes the much needed distraction keeping his thought’s away from his red strings (for now… always for now). Or, if Yuuri were being more honest with himself, he’d probably admit his new found fanboy status and idolization over Victor Nikiforov is also a prime motivator.

Yuuko and Yuuri spend days between training, memorizing Victor’s routines and gushing over magazines and interviews. And as the years go by, his poster collection may have gotten a little out of hand. And maybe, naming his dog after Victor could be considered a little much too for some people, but he shrugs when Mari makes a joking remark over it. “Loads of people name stuff after something they love!” He defends. “And he doesn’t mind being named after a rising star in figure skating, right, Vicchan?” He coos at his puppy who wiggles happily in his arms.

He’s sixteen years old when the thought of his red strings come back to the forefront of his mind in years. Well, honestly, he looks at them every day; making sure they haven’t change in any way, but, he’s learned not to make them the be-all-end-all focus of his day to day life.

He and Yuuko are sighing over the fact that they couldn’t be in Tokyo that weekend for the Grand Prix Finals. They’re just finishing up practice at Ice Castle and watching one of the promo broadcasts in the break room. “I can’t believe we’re going to be missing it,” Yuuko whines again. Yuuri nods with a pout.

“It’s not like we’ve gone to the other GPFs,” Nishigori says as he drops down onto the chair next to Yuuko.

“But it’s in Tokyo! It’s so close,” she starts.

“But still so far!” Yuuri finishes for her. He’s zipping his backpack closed sighing with Yuuko one last time in despair. “Next time,” he says with a doubtful and yet hopeful tone.

He’s about to slip on his gloves and notices movement on one of his strings. He blinks seeing that his brightest red string had untangled from its pair and moved. It was still in a northern direction but was now heading east.

His soulmate was traveling again. When he was home, he’d only seen a movement this big once before, a few years ago but he couldn’t remember exactly when. His brightest string always seemed to shift slightly this way or that throughout the year.

The only other times his strings moved was when he was competing. He remembered his first international competition, nervous for leaving Japan for the first time, but also for competing beyond a national level. He spent most of his time on that plane breathing in deep to calm himself when, halfway through his flight, he noticed his red strings slowly shifting directions.

He’d stared in fascination at the movement, never having seen his own strings do anything like that before. He’d tried to look out the window in vain, knowing he’d be too high to see anything other than blue oceans or green land. But… maybe, he thought, just maybe he’d get an idea of where his soulmates were, despite that, he knew better than to get swept up in it again, especially before a big competition.

“Something wrong, Yuuri?” Yuuko asks now, when she notices he hadn’t moved from his spot.

Yuuri looks away from his hand and slips his gloves on. “Ahh, sorry no! Everything is okay, just— I’m just disappointed about the GPF,” he replies with a shrug.

Yuuko pouts, but her eyes are quick to brighten. “Hey, are there any events at the onsen this weekend?”

He blinks. “Um… no I don’t think so. Or ‘kaa-san hasn’t mentioned anything to me. What’s up?”

She jumps up and reaches for his hands in a pleading gesture. “Think we can organize a gathering in your banquet hall? We can invite the others and watch the GPF live at your place. We’ll all chip in and pay the rental fee if the space is open.”

Yuuri’s own eyes brighten with excitement. “Y-yeah! That sounds like a good idea. I’ll run it through with my parents and message you.” He waves at them, heading out of Ice Castle and into the December chill to head home.

He’s halfway home before he takes off his glove to look at the movement of his brightest string. Part of him wants to explore, follow that childhood hope to the end of his string. He even entertains the idea that maybe his ever-traveling soulmate was in Tokyo for the GPF.

On the rare days where he thinks about his soulmates, he hopes they’re equally as passionate about dance or figure skating as he is. If they weren’t, he wonders what they would talk about. He chuckles to himself. Maybe dogs. As if the very thought of dogs summoned him, Vicchan comes bounding forward from down the street, Mari looking exasperated at the insistent tugging of the leash. Yuuri kneels down with no care for the snow. Vicchan leaps up begging for affection, spreading doggy kisses all over Yuuri’s chin. Yuuri takes that as a sign he’d reached his red-string thought-quota for the day. He slips his glove back on. Out of sight out of mind.

++

Yuuri first meets Celestino through Minako-sensei the weekend after the GPF. She said they’d crossed paths once or twice before at skating competitions, and he’d been in correspondence with her and his coach since. With Yuuri’s rising stats within the Japanese Skating Federation, curious eyes started watching and waiting to see what Yuuri would bring next. With talk of him preparing for a senior debut, Yuuri’s current coach, Hinata, Minako-sensei, his parents, and Celestino decide it’s best to have a sit down and chat. And that’s when Celestino extends his offer to coach him, at his home rink in Detroit.

It excites everyone at the table about what this could mean for Yuuri, but they still have a lot to negotiate. Yuuri fidgets for just a moment, under the stares, but he steels his shoulders sitting straighter. “I would like to finish high school first,” he says, his parents nodding in agreement beside him.

His okaa-san smiles encouragingly. “You could apply to [紀伊学院大学] if you decide to go, Yuu-chan, and do an exchange.”

They talk about school costs and visas. Living accommodations and figure skating. They about scheduling and paperwork and legal documents and a lot of stuff that overwhelms him, knowing he’s going to have to sit down at a later time to review again. But as he sits there, surrounded by encouraging smiles and one of his goals clear in sight, he grabs hold.

This was it. He was going.

++

Yuuri is nineteen and any expectations he had about moving to America were thrown out of mind once he arrived. Culture shock was something not even Hollywood media or Minako-sensei (who’d lived abroad for most of her dancing career) could have prepared him for. His ever-present and very handy Google and Yelp searches on his phone helps him find some comforts of home (though it took a while to find authentic Japanese food and not the western equivalent he sometimes raised a brow at).

When he first took the plane over, he anxiously watched his red strings wondering if this was where he’d meet at least one of them. By the end of his flight though, he held back a sigh when he noticed they simply shifted to point east. Somewhere between Detroit and Hasetsu he concludes then. It baffles him that his soulmates didn’t seem to be anywhere close to where he is. He shakes his head, trying to leave the thought behind. He in Detroit to train. That should be his focus for now.

Celestino picks him up from the airport and goes over their tentative schedule he’d put together for the next week. “I know it’ll take some time to settle in, so we’ll take this week pretty easy and go from there.”

Yuuri, tired from the long flight, nods his agreement and steels himself to meet his roommate. “His name is Brad. He’s on the hockey team. Don’t be intimidated by him or his loud demeanour. Oh. And don’t feel pressured into going to any parties. He’s the life of the party on campus—or so some of the kids at the rink say. He might try to drag you along, but he won’t force you.”

Yuuri internally winces. Life of the party did not fit his current, please let me burrito in my bed mood, but he’ll have to make do. “A-ah… okay. That sounds… good?”

Celestino grins. “I also spoke with Minako and she gave me some contact numbers here in the city. Once you’re settled in, we can add ballet classes back into the mix if you like. Hip-Hop is pretty popular on campus, I think you should check that out too. She said you had great upper body strength and experimented with breakdancing? If you want to refine that, I can refer you to the dance team. They might love to have someone for back up. But again, it’ll all really be up to you, okay?”

Yuuri nods again. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Brad is… well. Yuuri didn’t really have any idea how to describe Brad to his family after he settled in that first night. “Nice,” is a good go-to. But after a week, he could add “Loud. Probably listed as Exhibit A for Extrovert in textbooks”. Brad is tall and buff, as he supposes a hockey player should be. He keeps his dark hair buzzed short saying it’s was naturally curly and got in the way too often.

The first month, Brad consistently extended an invite to something called a “Brad-ger”. He’d repeatedly denied the requests citing his dance lessons or extra practice at the rink, but knew that the excuses could only last so long. Yuuri had to ask another rink mate what a “Brad-ger” even was. The response he got— “It stands for Brad-rager. And they’re only the best thing to happen on campus almost every weekend—” still left him with some questions. It definitely cleared up one thing? He knew it was a party run by Brad. He still wasn’t too sure exactly what a rager entailed, though.

Yuuri finds out what a rager is during the second month, when he finally gives in to one of Brad’s invites. When he arrives at the address he’s told to be at by 9pm, he stands frozen at the door, unsure if he regrets his decision or not. He spends all of two minutes trying to decide if he should escape, but he’s noticed by Brad’s quick eyes (no wonder he’s such a good goalie, Yuuri thinks later).

Brad is showing him around the house he’d commandeered for the party and Yuuri is introduced to too many people in such a short time he can’t even try to remember faces let alone names. Of course, once the alcohol is introduced (he tries to say he’s under-aged in America but they wave his worries away) Yuuri finds out that what he thought was exaggerated for the movies was more or less real if you know the right people. The only name he remembers that night is Kyle, because it’s right before Brad hands him his first drink and a promise that “Kyle here will hook him up with an ID within the week. On him.” Whatever that meant.

The morning after that first party Yuuri isn’t sure how he’s made it home alive, especially without a shirt, but Brad is there, handing him a bottle of water and some medication like a godsend. He’s invited out again as soon as he swallows the pills. “But don’t worry, it’s not a Brad-ger! A few of us want to get some Hangover Cures over at Joe’s Diner. You were a big hit last night and I think you should meet the gang properly,” Brad says his booming voice thankfully softer today. Most of the words still go over Yuuri’s hungover-addled brain. He does understand that a diner means food so he agrees to tag along for the adventure… as soon as he finds a shirt.

He learns after a full greasy American meal (one Celestino will definitely not approve of), that being a “big hit” at the rager meant he made a good impression on everyone and the gang hopes he comes out to more parties in the future. Yuuri on the other hand, interprets it to mean that he made a huge fool out of himself when he sees photos on their phones. Kelsey, a sweet southern-belle (as Brad introduced her as) has the most incriminating photos. His face warms at the stories they’re telling him, as though the photos aren’t proof enough. He’s apparently, he’d managed to get himself into some sort of dance battle and although he won, that was when he lost his shirt. He isn’t sure why he lost his shirt, but settles with an “an least it wasn’t my favourite shirt” and moves on.

Yuuri decides then, that the gang is nice enough to make an effort to join at least one rager every once in a while; but not too often, if only to prevent making a bigger fool out of himself.

++

The first time homesickness honestly hits Yuuri, he skips class for the first time in his life for a reason that isn’t for figure skating. He spends the morning wrapped up in a thick blanket instead and cries for home. His attempt earlier that week to find katsudon failed, leaving him desperate for something, anything from home.

He Skypes home in tears and harsh breathing. His parents are busy, but luckily it’s Mari who answers. The expression on her face tells him she’d been waiting for this moment. And he realizes he’d been waiting for the shoe to drop too. He could only distract himself from the loneliness for so long… “I know it doesn’t feel right, Yuuri, but things will be okay, understand? Homesickness will pass. We’re still here. And we’re rooting for you. Okay? Breathe with me? Just breathe.”

Together they count. Count their breaths in, and then out. Yuuri lets her familiar voice lull him back into calm. By the time he’s coherent enough, he flushes red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

She just shakes her head. “No. Don’t worry, Yuuri.”

They sit in silence before he asks if Mari has to get back to work. She just shakes her head again. “Nope, I just have to be here.”

And with that, he gives her a tired but much happier and appreciative smile.

When she decides he’s clear for the moment, she smiles back. “Tell me about America.”

And Yuuri tells her. About the gang. About the ragers (though he makes her promise not to tell okaa-san). He tells her about the struggles on finding good Japanese food. She gives him a thoughtful hum and says she’ll get back to him on that one.

He forgets about that comment until nearly a month later he gets a package. There are letters from Yuuko-chan and Minako-sensei. A photo of Vicchan. And then a notebook. The first few pages are notes of encouragement from Mari and his parents, and the rest is filled with homemade recipes.

“To have some food from home,” Mari notes.

Yuuri wants to cry. He misses them so much, but he’s had enough of crying for a good while. Instead, he hugs the package close and smiles.

++

Celestino keeps him after practice one day. “Thanks for staying, Yuuri,” he says grabbing a seat next to him on the bench.

“No problem. What’s going on?”

“Well, with Brad moving to Montreal when the semester ends, I know that Kyle was slated to take his spot,” his coach begins, “ But I’m actually thinking of having someone else room with you. He’s from Thailand and quite a bit younger than the rest of the lot… Between you and me, I trust you to be a little more… responsible, than some of the others.” Celestino chuckles.

And Yuuri can understand that. The rest of the older guys could be a bit of a rowdy bunch. He’s fully aware that Celestino knows about the ragers Brad organizes on a regular basis and that nearly everyone from the rink would join in.

“I think you’d be a good match for each other,” Celestino continues. “And I think it’ll be nice to have an easy-going pair for once. So, if you’re alright with the change, I can put a word in now before they settle the rooms at the residence.”

He smiles, knowing Celestino is probably hoping the crazy parties will tone down with Brad leaving. Everyone else at the rink, though, knew that Kyle was more than up to the challenge of taking up the party mantle. “I’m looking forward to it then.”

Celestino is clapping him on the back in thanks. “I’ll let you know move-in days and details once I have them. Sorry about not having you room with Kyle, I know you both get along.”

Shaking his hands to wave off Celestino’s worries, Yuuri says, “No, no. it’s okay. I think, as someone who went through the same ‘new country, new culture’, that the shock will be a little less daunting without such a… ano… enthusiastic roommate?”

They share an all-knowing grin.

++

Yuuri had the small apartment to himself for a whole week before his new roommate was supposed to arrive and with finals coming up, he both welcomed and hated the quiet. It was a little too quiet. After a little over two years of living with Brad, anything could be considered too quiet without his presence.

The day his new roommate is due to arrive, Yuuri feels a little anxious over his red strings. For the last two hours, one of them keeps shifting with an ever-so-slight tug. That’s something that he’s never felt his strings do before and he’s trying not to worry over what it could mean. At first, he thinks it’s his imagination; his worrying playing tricks on him. But then it happens again, and again, and again. He tries not to panic but for the first time in a long time, he feels the urge to follow his strings.

Yuuri can’t leave yet though, knowing Celestino’s already at the airport picking up his new roommate. He stares at his shifting red string. Tomorrow, he decides, if his string still tugged tomorrow, he’ll spend the day after training to look into the change.

In an attempt not to pace a hole into the floor, he tries studying in his room as he waits for Celestino to come knocking but having been cooped up in there for nearly the whole week,  he only feels more restless. Instead, he brings his textbooks and laptop into the living room and settles on the couch. Japanese ballads are playing from the small portable speakers Mari sent him for his birthday and he soothing music helps keep him calm.

Reviewing his notes for the umpteenth time can only distract him for so long and after three chapters, he just flops onto his belly, giving up for the day. Flicking through his phone’s gallery, he watches old videos of vicchan his family sends over. What he wouldn’t give right now to cuddle with his dog. He thinks. Perching his glasses on the arm rest with his phone he smooshes his face into the cushion to cover his deep sigh. A ballad by Maaya Sakamoto comes on and he lets it wash over him like a lullaby. A nap sounds like a good idea.

A heavy knock has Yuuri jumping from the couch, knocking his glasses and phone to the floor. “Ah-h, coming!” he calls as he scrambles to reach for his glasses, pocket his phone and open the door.

Celestino is there, two large suitcases in hands. “Hey Yuuri, did we wake you?” he asks chuckling.

Yuuri flushes, knowing he probably looks a little disheveled from his impromptu nap. He didn’t even know how long he’d been out for. He adjusts his glasses as he notices the younger teen standing just behind Celestino with a shy grin. He was tanned, with dark hair and a cap turned backwards, and bright happy grey eyes. Yuuri’s string gives a strong tug when the teen raises his left hand in a shy wave. “Hi, I’m Phichit,” he says.

But Yuuri completely misses Phichit’s greeting, because he sees the end of his red string for the first time.


	2. PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detroit Shenanigans with Phichit

As far as first impressions go, Yuuri doesn’t think he’s made a very good one. As much as he might want a redo, he has to make do with making a stammering fool out of himself.

The first night has Yuuri internally fighting himself, to stop hiding out in his room and socialize with Phichit, or to just keep hiding because he’s probably going to put his foot in his mouth again and ruin everything. He feels like ripping his hair out. He’d spent half of his childhood dreaming about the day he’d meet one of his soulmates, and of course when the day finally arrives… he blanks on what to say. It’s as though his mind went, “What are words?”

Bless Phichit’s patient soul for putting up with his hot-and-cold attitude that afternoon.

When Yuuri finally comes out of hiding, he sees Phichit sitting on the couch watching some reality television show he’s unfamiliar with that seems to involve a lot of women yelling at each other. “Sorry, was it too loud?” Phichit asks when he notices him, a worried smile on his face.

Yuuri shakes his head. “No! No. No… don’t worry. I-ano… I came out because I wanted to talk with you… if—” he rubs the back of his neck wincing at himself, “if that’s okay. Sorry. I’m not good at this… making new friends? So we can—maybe start over, if… if you want?”

Phichit’s worry fades and his smile is brighter. “Okay!” he shifts over on the couch, leaving Yuuri space to sit next to him. “Hi, I’m Phichit Chulanont.” He holds his hand out in offering.

Yuuri grins back, taking the offered hand and giving it a quick shake. “Katsuki Yuuri,” he says taking a seat. “Would it be alright if I called you Phichit-kun?”

“If I can call you Yuuri?”

“Of course, Phichit-kun.”

Phichit beams and pulls out his cellphone from his hoodie pocket. “Selfie? My family would love to meet my first friend in America.” Yuuri feels even more guilt at the first impression he’s left on Phichit as his first friend here, and resolves to make things right. The younger teen pulls Yuuri in, holding up his phone in one hand and a peace sign with the other.

Yuuri blushes but holds up a peace sign of his own.

The soft click from the phone signalled the photo’s taken and Phichit is cooing at it, pulling it up in some other app and flicking through some color edits. “My sisters would eat you alive if they met you,” he comments as he types away on his phone.

“E-eat me??”

Phichit laughs and pokes Yuuri’s cheek gently. “Sorry, is that slang? My sisters and I all learned most of our English from American television and the internet. I don’t really know how to translate it. But it’s because of that blush of yours. My sisters make a game out of making boys blush.”

The teen shows Yuuri the photo they took together. It’s cute. The colors are soft but despite the dim lighting, the photo is clear, the both of them with bright smiles. Yuuri takes in his blush that’s somewhat prominent in the photo and tries not to flush an even darker red.  “A-ah, can you send that to me? I’d like to show my family too.”

“Sure! What’s your Instagram? I can tag you too.”

Yuuri’s brows knit together in confusion. He’s heard of the term often enough at school and at the rink but never really paid much attention to it. Phichit gasps. “You don’t know what Instagram is? How about Facebook? Twitter? How do you keep in contact with your family?”

“S-Skype?” he replies cautiously.

At Yuuri’s deer-in-the-headlights expression, Phichit gasps again, latching himself to Yuuri’s arm and urging him to take his phone out. “First roommate bonding ritual. I will teach you the ways of social media.”

After the almost two-hour crash course on social media, Phichit looks at Yuuri expectantly. “POP QUIZ! You gotta make your first post, what are you gonna do?”

“Selfie?” he asks tentatively, and Phichit nods encouragingly.

“Okay, and then?”

Yuuri holds his phone up, and brings Phichit close to join in. Click. After choosing a filter on Instagram and captioning it, he presses the post button.

The other boy’s phone beeps at the notification and Yuuri watches his grin just get brighter.

Phichit laughs, typing a reply on his phone before he hugs Yuuri tight. “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

Yuuri hugs back and silently agrees.

[ _ Photo - Yuuri grinning with an arm wrapped around Phichit’s shoulders. Phichit with an equally bright and mischievous grin holding up a peace sign. _

**katsuki_yu** I have the best social media sensei @phichit+chu #firstpost #bestie

**phichit+chu** u got that right! (heart)

**phichit+chu** started following you.]

++

It’s almost a month of living with Phichit when Yuuri notices his soulmate is feeling restless. Yuuri’s at his desk in his room working on some extra credit assignments to make up for late-deductions on his essays when he feels Phichit’s string tug this way and that more than usual.

He worries but doesn’t know how to bring it up with the teen without overstepping any boundaries, or… or maybe Phichit is waiting for Yuuri to say something? He groans to himself, essay forgotten.

Yuuri steps into the living room to see if Phichit has come out of hiding but sees it empty. It’s strange not seeing his roommate lounging in the room watching some reality television or moving all the furniture to the side so he could follow along with the yoga instructor from a dvd he bought from Target.

He walks over to Phichit’s room and knocks on the door waiting until he hears a soft “Come in” from the other side.

“Hey. Phichit-kun,” he says taking in the huddled form of his soulmate. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and all the lights off except for the glow of his laptop that was playing Thai music and the glow from his cell phone he was currently browsing on. He was at one corner of his bed, knees pulled close to his chest, his head resting on a large hamster pillow.

Phichit looks exhausted. There are dark shadows under the younger teens eyes that are only accentuated by the light of his cellphone. There’s a frown on his face and a wrinkle between his brow and to Yuuri, it’s such a foreign expression on his roommate’s face. Phichit movements are slow and sluggish as he puts his phone down to turn his attention to him.

It hits Yuuri then, a possible answer to what might be wrong. Phichit, who was always bright and smiling and energetic (sometimes so energetic that Yuuri struggled to keep up), was also a teenager in a foreign country, away from home probably for the first time. And Yuuri clearly remembers feeling lonely despite having Brad’s company (where the answer to every problem was PARTY) or even just hanging out at the rink after hours, pretending it was Ice Castle.

“Hi Yuuri, what’s up?” Phichit asks when Yuuri steps into the room to sit by him.

If Yuuri knows anything about homesickness… he knows that sometimes food from home can ease it little by little. “I was thinking of going out for dinner instead of cooking today. What do you think?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Phichit nods, “Yeah, I’m feeling a little too lazy to cook tonight too. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a grin, “But let’s say in about an hour we’ll head out?”

Phichit looks suspicious but agrees and Yuuri rushes back to his room diving for his bed so he can grab his cell phone. He messages his classmate, from Thailand who, if he remembered correctly, had an aunt or a cousin or some family member who owned a Thai restaurant.  **Mission:** Authentic Thai Food for Phichit. He just hopes it isn’t too far.

The restaurant turns out to be forty-five minutes away from the apartment by bus, which isn’t terrible. He and Phichit have travelled farther to find “Instagram worthy” cheap eats for cheat-day. When the restaurant comes into sight, he can see Phichit’s momentary pause and scepticism in his eyes; but when they walk in, the tension eases from Phichit’s form near instantaneously as they’re surrounded by the fragrances that must remind him of home.

Phichit looks at him with watery eyes and gives him a hug so tight, Yuuri jokes it could have broken his ribs. They order way too much food but Yuuri doesn’t mind because Phichit is slowly coming back to his enthusiastic self and that makes him happy.

“I don’t think Ciao-Ciao will be happy about all this food.”

Yuuri shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?”

Phichit laughs. “True… except I already posted it on Instagram.”

“Phichit-kun!”

“Sorry, sorry. We’ll just have to do extra laps?”

[ _ Photo - A table full of dishes, soups and salads and rice and curry and skewers upon skwers of meat _

Liked by  **katsuki_yu** ,  **+guanghongji+** , and  **953 others**

  
  


**phichit+chu** I HAVE THE BESTEST OF BEST FRIEND EVER. Thank you @katsuki_yu

**katsuki_yu** Phichit-kun! Ciao-ciao is going to kill us tomorrow T__T but you’re welcome.

**ccialdini** I don’t kill my skaters. But if you don’t survive training that’s on you]

++

Celestino had thought pairing the two of them together would be an east on his mind, but as the months went by, he was quickly beginning to see he’d just created a monster duo. Although, they never went “Brad-ragers” (or whatever they were calling it these days) crazy and stayed relatively PG… their shenanigans (and sheer ability to get lost even with the internet and google maps) never ceased to amaze him. He sometimes wondered what happened to his shy boys. Well… he knew the extrovert hidden within Yuuri tended to come out with a bit of alcohol. But this… this was something that he never expected of either of them.

“Please, Celestino!” Phichit is using his actual name and close to going down on his knees to beg. A form in his hands for him to sign.

Yuuri is blushing in the background, trying to keep the scene contained. “Phichit-kun,” he hisses, but the younger teen ignores him.

Celestino sighs, taking the form for a closer read. This plan has Phichit written all over it, but a quick subtle glance at Yuuri shows that he isn’t too put out by the adventure that surely awaits them.

“I normally would have to be eighteen to take the classes, but if you sign the form as my guardian, I can take them now! And Yuuri will be with me! Please.”

“Yuuri will be with you willingly?” He asks with a curious look at his Japanese skater.

The blush on Yuuri’s cheeks darkens even more and Celestino worries if excessive blushing can cause fainting. “Ano— I mean. I’m not against signing up. I-it’s supposed to be good fitness…” He’s fidgeting in his spot, very reminiscent of when Celestino first met him years ago in Hasetsu.

“Please! I’ll get on my knees and sing your high praises!”

Celestino brushes his hair back from his face with another exasperated sigh. “Fine. Fine, off the floor Phichit, please don’t sing. Let’s go get a pen.”

The Thai boy cheers as he jumps up. “Thank you! Thank you!” He’s rushing to the front desk of the Detroit Skating Club Rink for a pen while Yuuri and Celestino follow at a slower pace.

“As long as you’re both safe and any injuries don’t affect your skating, I’m okay with his. Just… if this is going to end up on any of your social media accounts,” he looks sternly at Phichit knowing this is more for him than for Yuuri, “Please keep it PG at least until you’re eighteen? I don’t want any angry phone calls from family thinking I’m corrupting their children.”

“You won’t regret this, Ciao-Ciao!” Phichit says as he accepts the paper like it’s a gift from the Queen herself and then he turns to Yuuri with that mischievous gleam in his eyes that can only really mean danger… except Yuuri just shrugs off that warning.

“So… pole dancing?” Yuuri says tentatively.

“Hell yes, pole dancing!”

Celestino feels like he’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh and instead hides his face in his hands, mumbling in Italian to himself.

[ _ Photo - A smirking Phichit has one arm wrapped around a sheeping looking Yuuri, his other arm is stretched out with a form in hand. _

Liked by  **katsuki-yu** ,  **christophe-gc** , and  **1002 others**

**phichit+chu** (winking emoji, smirking emoji) all signed up for dance lessons with @ katsuki-yu

**ccialdini** don’t make me regret this

**leo09** what kind of dance lessons?

**phichit+chu** @leo09(winking emojo) it may or may not involve a pole

**christophe-gc** (winking emoji) can I join in?]

++

As Phichit’s eighteenth birthday approached, he’d been subtly hinting at joining one of Kyle’s ragers. “So, I know a guy who knows a guy who can forge a fake ID for me,” he says.

Yuuri eyes him in suspicion. “Have you been cozying up to Kyle for an ID?”

“He offered!”

“It doesn’t make me feel very comfortable letting you into these parties. Not only are you still considered a minor here, you attract trouble like no tomorrow.”

Phichit pouts. “But you were under-aged when you started joining in on the infamous Brad-gers.”

Yuuri wants to face-palm at the hazy memories. “Yes. And I’m one-hundred percent sure I made a fool out of myself at all of them. Besides. It was pretty much unavoidable that I end up at one of the Bradgers. He was my roommate,” he deadpans.

“We’ll watch each other’s backs!”

Phichit looks close to being on his knees and begging and Yuuri’s unsure why he feels like it’s a dejavu until the whole debacle at the rink with Celestino comes to mind. “Please don’t sing my praises,” Yuuri interrupts when it looks like Phichit is preparing to belt out at the top of his lungs. “You usually get your way, don’t you?” he asks.

The teen winks with a beaming grin. “Eventually. It’s something you learn when you’re the youngest and only boy surrounded by fussy sisters.”

Yuuri holds back an exasperated sigh at his friend’s antics and grins instead. Phichit’s very outgoing and extroverted nature was one of the reasons why Yuuri considers him one of his very special people. And even though the majority of their relationship to date consisted of him saying, “Phichit-kun, nooooo” and said friend responding with an energetic, “Phichit YESSSS. A HELL YES ACTUALLY,” Yuuri wouldn’t have it any other way.

When word gets out about a party, a few people at the rink decide it’s a good idea to take advantage of it and their week off from training and school. “ROAD TRIP!”  Kelsey cheers.

Yuuri just looks confused why they have to take a road trip to Montreal of all places to celebrate Phichit’s birthday. “Isn’t it a ten-hour drive?”

“If we bring Andrew, ten hours between three drivers is gonna be nothing! And, partying will be legal in Montreal,” Kelsey points out, “The drinking age over there is eighteen.”

“We can visit Brad!” Kyle gives his two cents.

“Also, I’ve never been to Canada,” Phichit adds, “or experienced a Bradger.”

“Don’t be such a worry-wart!” Kelsey says, and while Yuuri isn’t quite sure what a wart is, he understands the meaning. “Vacation time!”

Yuuri just shrugs. If they get the A-Okay from Celestino, he’s already pretty much outvoted and they were right. It’d be a nice vacation.

They pool all their money together to rent a car and Brad takes care of their accommodations by offering up his apartment. Three days later, they’re on the road.

Brad introduces them to his friend Mattieu when they arrive around noon. And while they’re chowing down on something called Poutine and smoked-meat sandwiches, Brad organizes a Bradger: Montreal Reunion Edition. “It’s a working title,” he says with a shrug.

The partying goes like every other Bradger Yuuri has ever been too. Except instead of settling at one house for the night, they go from bar to bar where Brad seemingly knows all the bouncers. Booze is cheap, and despite the slight language barrier he has with his very very limited French, he seems to be doing okay. He worries for a moment that maybe Christophe taught him some naughty French and that’s why he’s getting a lot of free shots for himself and Phichit, but the alcohol keeps flowing, so he puts the thought out of mind.

He can’t remember if it’s their third bar of the night or the fifth, but that isn’t important. What is far more important is that Phichit beams and drags him forward with a breathless call of his name. “Yuuri! They let you pole dance here!”

That was all the prompting he needs, and the two are off putting those lessons to good use.

++

Yuuri wakes up surprisingly not hungover. But he knows right away that there are blanks in his memory because he can’t even remember how they got back to Brad’s apartment in one piece. He feels groggy, but it’s more of an ‘I need sleep. Or food. Or both’- type of foggy-ness in his brain and not an ‘I’m still drunk and that’s why I don’t feel hungover’-type. He takes that as a good sign as he stretches. Drunk-Yuuri managed to keep ahold of his phone and his glasses and put them on the coffee table. He’s also managed to keep his shirt so that’s another good sign, he thinks as he checks the time.

It’s still early and after a quick glance around the room to check that everyone is accounted for. He can see Andrew, Kyle, and Kelsey still knocked out on the king-sized air mattress that took over what would have been the dining space. Brad didn’t make it to his room and was asleep alongside his friend Mattieu on the other pull-out couch. Phichit, though, looks wide awake next to him on the second couch-bed. For someone who probably consumed his weight in alcohol, that was a feat.

“Morning!” Phichit whispers cheerfully putting down his phone when Yuuri blinks up at him.

“Morning, Phichit-kun. Feeling okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, a bit of cotton-mouth but that was expected really. And I had two gatorades before bed too, so that might’ve helped… wanna go for a coffee run? I want to try out the Tim Hortons thing.”

They dressed into something a little more comfortable than the clothes they passed out in the night before, a note on their bed in case the others woke up before they got back.

The walk to the nearest Tim Hortons wasn’t very long, and they decided to sit around in one of the booths for a little and watch the city come to life. Phichit is giggling over his phone as he shows Yuuri all the photos they took that he can vaguely remember.

He groans and blushes when he sees a photo of him doing a body-shot off Brad’s friend. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Why would I stop an art performance in front of me?” Phichit asks, the very thought blasphemy. He giggles some more when he swipes through his gallery. “Oh, also… you mentioned something strange last night.”

Yuuri looks up from behind his hands. “Was it another declaration of my love for Victor Nikiforov, because that isn’t too strange considering, I’m sure Brad has a compilation video somewhere on his phone?”

Phichit looks surprised. “He does?! Why didn’t you say so earlier, I need a copy of it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late, it’s gonna be mine.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Don’t worry. The compilation won’t end up on social media until have you’ve married the guy.” Phichit grins.

“So never. He doesn’t know I exist.”

Phichit waves off Yuuri’s doubts. “Anyway, it wasn’t a declaration of love for Victor. You kept going on about some red strings last night. Got super emotional over it. If I knew you were a clingy drunk, Yuuri, I would have gotten myself a fake ID earlier, promises be damned. I like getting Yuuri-initiated hugs. I mean, I’d like Yuuri-initiated hugs when you’re sober too, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Yuuri froze. “W-what else did I say?”

“Hm?” Phichit puts down his phone at Yuuri’s worried tone. Phichit must see something in Yuuri’s face because his best friend has a steady hand on his shoulder, the other one pulling one of Yuuri’s hands to his own chest. “Yuuri, deep breaths. Follow my breathing. Everything is fine. You didn’t say anything wrong. No one else heard. We were lagging behind the others walking back to the apartment and you were telling me about some red strings and how you’re happy we met. Which you should know that I’m happy to have met you too.” Phichit pats Yuuri on the back softly to ease his worry. “You’re my best friend.”

Tension drops from Yuuri’s shoulders. “You’re my best friend too,” he returns with a smile.

Phichit grins, “And partner in crime. Don’t forget it.” He paused for a moment, “Did… did you want to talk about these. Uh. Red strings? It seems important to you.”

Yuuri blushes and hesitates. This was one thing he’d been thinking about over and over again since he’d met Phichit all those month ago; hell probably almost a year ago now. How should he bring this up in conversation? Should he even bring it up? They were friends. The very best friends that clicked right with each other. He loved Phichit, not romantically, but with everything else he had. But… bringing up the red strings. He’d never told anyone about them outside of his okaa-san.

“A-ano…” Yuuri fidgets with his strings, and looks specifically at the one that ties him to his best friend. “What do you know about the red strings of fate?”

His best friend’s grin just brightens. “I was hoping you’d say that. I was googling this morning, because I got curious.”

He chuckled, not surprised by Phichit’s initiative to look into things himself. “What if… what would you say if I said the red strings are real?”

“Are you trying to tell me that we’re destined to be partners in crime together for all eternity?” Phichit asks, an excited expression taking over his face. “Because if you are, it is the greatest bestie-proposal ever and nothing in my life will ever top it.”

After Yuuri explained his history with the red strings of fate, about that day he followed Phichit’s string all the way down to the beach and realize his soulmates most likely weren’t in Japan, the two share another Yuuri-initiated hug.

They’re walking back to Brad’s apartment with donuts and coffee in tow for their friends, Phichit humming to himself before he turned to look at Yuuri, “Do I have more than one string?”

Yuuri glances at Phichit’s hand and smiles. “You do, but I’ve never seen the ends of them,” he waves his hand anxiously, “Not that I made an effort into looking! I just, sometimes notice it… habit?”

Phichit nods in understanding. “If… if ever you see the ends of my string… you don’t have to tell me who it is, but. If you could maybe nudge me in the right direction? I think it’d be nice to meet my other special person.”

++

Yuuri was hoping for a quiet weekend for once, as he was still recovering from their road trip two weeks prior, but those hopes were dashed (because of course they were) when he hears the front door open and multiple voices calling out for help. Yuuri doesn’t rush, since it didn’t sound like a “help someone is dying” but more like a “help someone is probably drunk”, but that’s his assumption when he hears what sounds like Kyle’s voice.

When he steps out from his bedroom, he is welcomed to the sight of Phichit, Kyle, and Kelsey carrying in huge slim boxes, and large bags of something, wood chips maybe, he’s not sure. “Wha-what’s going on?” Yuuri rushes to help Kelsey with a giant bag of some sort of wood like bedding.

“I got myself a belated birthday gift,” was Phichit’s only reply as he herds everyone into his bedroom. The bags are unceremoniously dumped onto Phichit’s bed and Yuuri can now clearly see they’re from a pet shop. The boxes Phichit and Kyle were carrying were gently placed on the ground.

A lightbulb blinks to life in Yuuri’s mind. “Is this why you cleared out half of your room last weekend?”

“Yep.”

Yuuri isn’t listening to the rest of the banter between the trio as he unpacks the bags of bedding, tubes, a wheel, and other knick-knacks. He blinks at what he’s holding in his hands. “Are you smuggling a hamster into residence?” He has a feeling he shouldn’t sound as surprised as he does. But he is surprised… and apparently, soon to be an accomplice.

Phichit cheers at Yuuri’s realization. “Nope! I’m going to be smuggling in  _ three  _ hamsters!”

This was another ‘Phichit, no, Phichit, hell yes’ situation that Yuuri knew he was going to be unable to avoid.

“As my roommate, you’re duty-bound to come with me and coo at all the animals while I pick up my new babies. I’ll even let you co-parent!”

Kelsey is laughing at the pair of them, “I know I’m now an accomplice, but I thought I should point out that Ciao-Ciao is gonna kill us all when he finds out.”

“Who says he’ll find out?” Kyle asks.

Everyone dead-stares at him for moment before in unison, Kelsey and Yuuri point to Phichit. “Social Media King over here will post it on Instagram,” says Yuuri in confusion. How could anyone forget that Phichit posts nearly everything on his social media accounts. And that Celestino follows him on all of them to keep track of all the shenanigans.

It takes the four of them nearly two hours to figure out the manual and build the display case Phichit bought from Ikea. “Don’t we need a cage?” Yuuri asks.

Phichit responds with a confused look of his own and points to the shelf. “This will be the cage. It’s a hack I found online.”

Yuuri exchanges glances with Kyle and Kelsey. The sheer amount of things Phichit is able to find on the internet is equal parts astounding and also just “whyyyy? Are you even looking that up?”.

Bound by duty, Yuuri follows Phichit to the pet shop the next day where they spend three hours, as promised, cooing at all the animals. Yuuri, in particularly, spends a longer time near the dogs missing Vicchan before Phichit pulls him away to introduce him to their new sons.

Three hamsters, each one named after a character from  _ Shall We Skate? _

“I mean, you can give one of them the middle name of Victor if you want.”

Yuuri blushes. “It’s okay… Remember when I said I have a poodle back home?”

Phichit gasps. “You didn’t! I mean, to be honest, I thought it sounded similar… but I didn’t think you’d actually name your dog after Victor Nikiforov.” He paused. “No, wait… never mind. I take back my shocked gasp. Anything Victor Nikiforov-related shouldn’t surprise me when it comes to you.”

They’d just gotten home and were watching their new ‘sons’ explore their new home, when Phichit gasps again. He stops his video recording and puts his phone down. “Wait a minute! Did you get a poodle because Victor got a poodle?”

Yuuri flushes again. “I thought anything Victor-related shouldn’t surprise you?”

Phichit contemplates it, then lifts his phone again to resume filming. “No… you’re right. That shouldn’t surprise me.”

++

Whenever Phichit starts a conversation with ‘Don’t look now,’ Yuuri tenses knowing to expect some sort of trouble.

“What happened now?”

“More like who didn’t happen,” Phichit says grabbing a seat across from Yuuri at the café they agreed to meet at after their respective exams. “Sasha is here and he’s giving you the puppy eyes again. I swear, Yuuri, if you just gave him like, a weekend of your undivided attention, preferably outside of a party setting, he will  _ blow your mind _ .” Phichit wags his eyebrows.

Yuuri stares at him. “Do you have to try to set me up with every Russian you know?”

“Gotta practice your Russian,” Phichit says, before thanking the waitress for bringing the warmed up sandwich he ordered, “So when you finally meet Victor, you can blow his mind too.”

“Please don’t say it like that, it sounds wrong,” Yuuri rolls his eyes at Phichit’s ‘it’s supposed to sound wrong, Yuuri, what do you think I’m hinting at here’ and turned his attention back to his book. “Also, Sasha is my friend and he isn’t my type.”

Phichit gives him a deadpan stare that shows Yuuri just how much he doesn’t believe that statement. Yuuri doesn’t even believe that statement. He glances off to the side where Sasha is sitting; he’s a Russian student from his Business Management class… with grey-blue eyes, who keeps his hair somewhat long, uses a purple toner/shampoo that gives the bleached blonde a tinge of silvery/lilac shade, who also has a smooth and deep voice and a thick Russian accent that… well. Yuuri stops the thought before he blushes and gives himself away.

“Oh, sorry. My mistake. I’ll make sure not to interrupt your not so innocent make-out session at the next party then, and instead I’ll go find a four-time figure skating gold medalist and send him your way. Just give me, like, a week to sort out the arrangement, ‘kay?”

Yuuri doesn’t look up from his book. “Looking forward to it,” he deadpans.

This time Phichit rolls his eyes. “Listen, Yuuri, if not Sasha. Maybe you should give Marc a try,” he says. “Everyone at Detroit Skating Club Rink knows he’s been salivating after you for like a month now.”

“He has not.”

“Oh my sweet darling child. He’s been hitting on you. I think he thinks you’re playing hard to get.”

Yuuri jerks slightly in his seat, aghast. “I have not been playing hard to get!”

Phichit nods solemnly into his coffee. “I know, that’s the saddest part. You’re just woefully oblivious… unfortunately for a lot of people.”

“Can… can we change the subject?”

“On the condition we get you a date before the end of the week.”

“Phichit-kun! I don’t need to get laid.”

“Methinks you protest too much. One date. We can double if it’ll make you feel more comfortable. My ‘cozying up to Kyle’, as you like to put it, has worked wonders and he snagged me a date with that cute barista he knows. Bring Sasha. Practice your Russian. Blow each other’s minds if the date goes well and then everyone happily goes their separate ways.”

Yuuri looks back at Sasha who looks up in time to meet his gaze. Instantly Yuuri flushes and Sasha is grinning at him with a shy wave.

Phichit nudges him. “Go. Friday at 8, tell him it’s a double, ‘kay? Then you two can take the apartment and I’ll go with the barista or crash at Kyle’s.”

“Fine. Fine. And don’t say I told you so.”

“I’ll just say you’re welcome then.”

Yuuri stands up from their table, glaring at Phichit briefly before shuffling his way to Sasha.

++

When Yuuri and Celestino leave to catch their flight to Sochi it’s with the support of the whole Detroit Skating Club Rink and his family back in Japan. He’s nervous. More than nervous. He thinks he’s going to be sick with from his anxiesty. He doesn’t do well at competitions. They’d never been his strong point, always too nervous, too many eyes to see every flaw he makes under the pressure of his peers. Celestino has a comforting solid hand on his shoulder, reminding him to breathe. He earned this. He worked hard for it. Everything was going to be okay.

Except that it wasn’t. After his short program he answers a call from Mari thinking it’s one of encouragement only to realize it was the complete opposite. He just stepped off the elevator with Ciao Ciao to head back to their rooms and rest for the night.

"I’m… I’m sorry, Yuuri." Mari says, her voice thick with grief, he’d never heard his sister sound like that before. "I knew you’d never forgive us if we kept it from you, and the timing couldn’t be more horrible with your competition. But Vicchan…"

“I don’t…” He doesn’t understand. He Skyped with his family just last week. Okaa-san had sent him a video just two days ago with Vicchan playing with a new rope toy.

"It was all so sudden. We rushed him to the vet as quickly as we could… but. I’m sorry, Yuuri. I’m so sorry."

Yuuri doesn’t realize he was shaking until Celestino is leading him into their room and settling him on his bed and wrapping a thick blanket over his shoulders as he’d learned to do when Yuuri’s hit with a sudden shock of anxiety.

“I’ll… I’ll call you later, Mari.” He says, because he didn’t know what else to say. No other thought can process. Just his Vicchan. The best friend he left behind in Japan for the last few years, is dead. Vicchan is dead.

He drops his phone in his lap.

“What happened, Yuuri?” Celestino asks. Concern written all over his face.

“Vicchan. My dog. He died.”

++

Don’t cry. Don’t cry here. Not yet. Not now! he thinks after his abysmal free skate and he finishes the article he’s reading.

Yuuri excuses himself from Celestino and shuffles towards the farthest washroom he can find. Locking himself in one of the stalls, he stares at his phone. There are already messages from Phichit and some of others from the rink, but he ignores those for now. He sniffles instead. He blew it. His first GPF and he started strong. But between binge-eating before his the competition and then the news about Vicchan…

And to top things off, since he arrived, his two other strings kept tugging, making him more anxious than he could handle in his current mental and physical state. Not now, he wants to plead. Please, not now. Not today, when he’s at his lowest of lows. He doesn’t have the time now to look for them. Regardless of what he wanted, his red strings tug anyway. Sometimes in the same direction, other times in opposite. If this is the same tug like Phichit’s, it can only mean that they’re here. Here in Sochi. Here in the Iceberg Skating Palace.

He should feel happy. He’s so close. But now everything is going wrong. Knowing they were here. Knowing they could be watching. Knowing they probably saw his biggest failure. Yuuri scrolls through the contacts on his phone, thumb hovers over the Home number. It rings twice before his okaa-san picks up the line.

“Hi okaa-san. Sorry. Were you sleeping?”

"Oh, Yuu-chan." she answered. "We’re watching the competition. Yuuko-chan and the others are here and helped us set up the viewing."

“Eh? A viewing?” He fumbles in his stall, stressing further over the fact others back home watched his failure. “Okaa-san,” he whines, “I’m so embarrassed.”

"Ohh, don’t feel embarrassed. We’re all very proud of how far you’ve come. Are you okay? Those falls didn’t look very good."

Yuuri holds his head with his free hand. “I’m sorry… I messed up.”

"Yuu-chan, please don’t apologize. You’ll come back strong. You always do."

“I gotta go,” he says, and hangs up without waiting for her response. Tears are filling his eyes, making it hard to see. He buries his face in his hands, trying to muffle his cries. One of his red strings is tugging again. But he ignores it. Not now. He thinks again for what feels like the millionth time. Please. Not —

His thought is interrupted by something that smashes into the stall door. He startles out of the seat, quickly rubbing at his face to clear away his tears. Composed, he opens the stall, “Ano— sorry, I was…” His mumbling trails off as he takes in the glaring form of Yuri Plisestsky. The Junior Gold Medalist. He’d heard rumours about him. A lot of people called him the “Russian Punk”, and being on the receiving end of that glare, he can sort of understand why. The glint in the boy’s eye and the disgust on his face is clear and Yuuri can’t help but lean away, trying to hide the way he’s trembling in the face of the palpable hate.

“Oi,” Yuri Plisestsky starts.

Yuuri almost misses it because the tug of his red string jerks and Plisetsky’s hand is in his face, finger pointing menacingly at him. From that moment, it felt like time slows. The boy is leaning up onto his toes in an intimidation pose, except everything he’s saying sounds far away and jumbled. All Yuuri can focus on is that one of his strings, the one that made an appearance when he was eight-years-old, ends on Plisetsky’s pinky.

He blinks, and time catches up. Plisetsky is heaving, calling him something most probably derogatory in Russian before the kid settles back onto his heels. The teen stares at him for a moment longer, tsking before storming out like nothing happened.

Except it wasn’t nothing. Apparently Plisestsky is one of his soulmates, not that he understands why when the kid clearly hates his guts. Yuuri leans over the sink, staring at his reflection. To be fair, he would be disgusted in himself too after his performance today and sob-fest in the washroom.

He shakes his head. If only he could just as easily shake off the additional disappointment. Yuuri groans to himself. Later. He tells himself. Wallow in it later.

Finding Celestino is easy. His coach gives him another comforting pat over the shoulders. “Let’s rest up and then prepare for the Gala, okay?”

Yuuri shrugs. He doesn’t want to go but knows he has no choice. Unless he wants to look like an even bigger sore loser at his first Grand Prix Final. They’re walking towards the exit to head back to their hotel when he feels his red strings tug some more. Ignore he tells himself.

“Katsuki-kun!” someone calls. And Yuuri absolutely wants to ignore him. Instead, he sighs and turns around to see Morooka, a reporter he’s friendly with.

“Ah, Morooka-san.”

“Don’t give up okay now, kid? It’s way too early for you to retire.”

Retire. Everyone is talking about Yuuri retiring, when the only thing in his immediate plans is go home. To grieve over Vicchan. To stress out over his performance. To over-analyze his string to Plisetsky and his apparent hate. Oh. Think of the devil and he will appear, he thinks to himself when his string, both of them, tug again. Yuuri continues to ignore it. He doesn’t need more disappointment today.

“I haven’t made any decisions, please don’t spread any assumptions.”

Morooka looks upset, “What will do you after graduation? Will you be staying in Detroit?”

Yuuri doesn’t want to think about anything. “I’ll have to talk it through with Celestino.”

The journalist keeps going, but Yuuri doesn’t focus. Just ignore everything. Go back to the hotel, maybe prepare something for Vicchan, to apologize. Ignore everything else. Go on autopilot.  

He hears his name from Victor’s lips at the same time both of his strings tug again and he’s startled out of his thoughts. Phichit would have giggled at the reaction. Something about his Victor-Radar being on point. When he glances over to the side, he sees Victor talking to his second soulmate. Ah, Victor had actually been saying “Yuri”. That made more sense than Victor calling for  _ him _ , made sense why his string would tug like it did. Look away. He tells himself. Look away. Ignore the tugs.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

He must have been staring too long, because now Victor is looking at him. He’s flashed with Victor’s brightest media-ready smile. “Commemorative Photo?” Victor is gesturing to him. “Sure!”

Ignore the tug, is all Yuuri thinks to himself as he walks away. Of course Victor would mistake him for a fan. They’re nowhere near the same playing field. It was a fluke that he’d made it here in the first place. Ignore Victor. Ignore Morooka. Ignore everything. Celestino looks surprised, knowing the level of idolization (Thirst- Phichit would have corrected) Yuuri had for the Russian Skater.

He just shakes his head to Celestino. Ignore everything. Not today.

++

After the GPF, Yuuri felt listless and guilty. Everything he’d worked so hard on seemed like it’d gone to waste. Phichit helped, trying to keep the mood up. And between school, and skating (though not as much as before), and dancing, it’d kept most of this anxious thoughts at bay. But he knew it was time to go home. He needed a break, to think about what he wanted, about what was next.

Yuuri didn’t want a goodbye party. He didn’t have the energy or motivation to go brad-ger crazy and his friends respected his decision. Instead, Kyle, Kelsey, and Phichit surprise him after his last exam with large home-made meals, a box of his favourite donuts, and a pillow fort set up in front of their television.

They hole themselves up in Yuuri and Phichit’s apartment for the whole weekend having a Harry Potter marathon. And that Sunday, after both Kyle and Kelsey left, Phichit and Yuuri stay in their pillow fort. Phichit’s favourite movie was playing softly in the background, though, they pay it no mind.

“I’m sad to see you go,” Phichit holds his hand. They stare up at the fairy-lights they have hanging from the top of the tent portion of their pillow home.

Yuuri turns to his best friend, holding his hand a little tighter. “I’m going to miss you, Phichit.”

It’s been a long time since Yuuri had seen that level of sadness on Phichit’s ever cheerful face.

“I miss you already,” Phichit says between sniffles, and they hug. “No more morning selfies with you, or evening selfies, or selfies at practice. No more food adventures. Or driving Ciao Ciao crazy. No more co-parenting. No more Partner in Crime.”

Yuuri sniffles too trying to hold back his tears. “It—it’s not that I won’t ever see you again. I know… that it won’t be the same. But at every competition we have together, I promise we will hang out. And you know my home will always and forever be open to you if you visit me in Japan. And… and we have Skype, and Facebook, and Instagram, and Snapchat. And you can tag me in all the memes, and all the videos of our hamster-babies, and send me all the snaps of the all the parties or the pole routines or anything. And you can always. No matter what time, call me, or text me, anything. You’re my best friend Phichit. My Partner in Crime for all eternity. Nothing will ever change that even if we’re miles apart.”

They spend that night, and every night until Yuuri’s flight for Japan, in their pillow home, just hugging and cuddling, because they don’t know when they’ll be able too again.

[ _ Photo – Yuuri and Phichit hugging, surrounded by pillows, the fairy lights bokeh in the background. _

Liked by  **katsuki-yu** ,  **ccialdini** , and  **1211 others**

**phichit+chu** (tear-sad face emoji) IMY ALREADY #partnersincrime #bestiesforlife

**katsuki-yu** (crying emoji) (heart emoji) (heart emoji) (heart emoji)

**katsuki-yu** IMY2]

++

It felt surreal to be in Japan again, especially after five years. It surprises him to see how much the station has changed since he’d last been home. Everything looks new, and yet still the same and familiar. He freezes when he gets to the entry platform and see posters of himself cheering him on. His mind blanks and stutters. Why were there even posters of him in the station? He wants to whine to Phichit, or have the ground swallow him whole. Something, anything, to take away the embarrassment.

“Yuuri~” A sharp but singsongy voice calls out through the hum of the busy station. The tone sends him straight into a panic. Fight or flight mode, escape, run or hide, or both. “Why are you skulking around?”

“M-Minako-sensei! What—” He’s interrupted by Minako’s very graceful pirouette. She has a banner outstretched in her hands and he has to resist the urge to cover himself and hide.

“Welcome home! Five years is a long time, huh.”

“W-why are you here?” he asks as he feeds his ticket into the machine to exit the station.

Minako-sensei ignores his question. “Stop slouching, will you?” she says instead, and he can recognize the silent ‘I taught you better than that’ hidden underneath her playful tone. It just makes him want to hunch over even more. Especially now that she’d caused a scene and people seem to be murmuring about him in the crowd; recognition coming through slowly within the station. The not-so-subtle whispers make him feel as though he’s in Sochi again, the ignore, ignore, ignore mantra returns with a vengeance at the back of his mind.

There are offers for handshakes, but the moment Minako notices he’s tried to ignore them, she gives him a tight smile, holding his hand out for these strangers to shake. “Be polite. You don’t lose anything for having manners. And Victor Nikiforov is always nice to his fans.”

But I’m not like Victor, he wants to tell her.

Instead he finds himself repeating, “Thank you for your support,” to the people who come up to him with interest. He hopes it doesn’t sound dead-toned like it does in his own ears.

When the small crowd dispersed, Minako-sensei takes hold of his arm and tugs him along. “Now that you’re home everyone wants to see you.”

“But what happened to your classes?”

She shrugs. “Closed today. We don’t have many students anyway,” she says and Yuuri couldn’t help but notice how tired she sounded. “Business has been slowing down in Hasetsu, Yuuri. And a lot of people are just finding other opportunities in the bigger cities.”

The news saddens him, but he isn’t surprised by it either. He’s seen multiple businesses close down while he was still in high school. “You should cheer things up around here, Yuuri,” she continues.

The expectations gnaw at his anxiety and he pulls back from her tug. “I’m sorry,” he says out loud. For everything. For failing, for disappointing everyone’s expectations, for not winning, he wants to add, but he only sighs. “I’m tired… from the travelling.”

Minako gives him a once over. She’d watched him grow and knew all his tells, but he avoids eye contact instead of facing her head on. “Are you sure?” she asks. “Everyone’s been so excited to see you.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Well… alright. We’ll make it a quiet night then.”

He slowly looks up to catch her gaze. “Thank you.”

Yuu-Topia has gone through a few renovations from what he can see from the front. His heart pounds hard against his chest, because it’s only just settled in that he’s home. Home for the first time in five years. Minako is tugging him again, calling through the entryway.

“Hiroko~! Look who’s here!”

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat when he sees his okaa-san peeking in from the back room. “Minako-senpai! Thank you for bringing him home!”

And then she’s rushing over. “Yuuri! Welcome home.”

He leans in and responds softly with an, “I’m home. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Hiroko waves his concerns away, and Yuuri feels the tension he’d been carrying since the flight ease. “I’m home,” he repeats once more.

++

Being home is strange. Hasetsu is quieter than he remembers. He finds it bigger too. Though, when he compares it to busy Detroit it’s somewhat understandable. It’s nice seeing his family, talking to them in person and not with a screen separating them. That’s even as the years have passed, not much has changed.

Still… Yuuri feels restless. There’s no training to keep him distracted. No Phichit to bring him along on food adventures. No slight tugs on his string even letting him know that Phichit was home. He sighs, rolling onto his side to scroll through his Instagram feed. Phichit went on a tagging spree and he has to catch up on liking the posts. He sees a video Phichit posted, a loop of him practicing a spin.

Ice Castle pops in mind and he’s jumping out of bed, scrambling for his gear that was shoved deep in his luggage. Then he’s rushing out the door. Hiroko glances up from the van she’s unloading. “Oh! Where are you going, Yuuri?”  She calls after him.

“I’m just going to practice for a bit,” he calls back almost missing her well wishes. He’s running down the familiar path to Ice Castle feeling exhilarated.

Five years. It was strange seeing things that are so similar and yet so different from the last time he’s been here. It feels almost dreamlike.

He doesn’t hesitate to walk straight through the automatic doors of Ice Castle. Some renovations are clear but it’s still home and that restless feeling loosened from his core. He walked up to the counter where he can see Yuuko arranging the rentals back in place.

He shuffles his feet together, he should probably have called in advance to let her know he was coming, or even that he’d arrived in Hasetsu. “Excuse me.”

“Sorry, our regular hours are over for the day,” Yuuko says. She doesn’t look away from the shelves until she’s finished shelving a pair of skates, but then she gasps.

Yuuri gives her a sheepish smile. “It’s been a while, Yuuko-san.”

“Yuuri!” She dashes up to the counter in her excitement, smile bright and familiar, easing the last of his nerves for the evening. “Oh, you know you can call me Yu-chan!”

“S-sorry.” He replies flushing slightly.

“Came to skate huh? You can go right ahead.”

Yuuri pulls his hood down. “You sure?”

His childhood best friend just gives him a knowing look. “You just want to skate alone for a while, right? I’ll protect you.” She gives him her playful wink and he stutters a grateful thank you.

He’s happy to see that Yuuko hasn’t changed. Always smiling. Always excited by figure skating. Always supportive and understanding. He hadn’t realized how much he’s missed the Nishigori’s until now.

When he’s done warming up, he skates to where Yuuko’s been watching him from the boards and gently hands her his blue glasses.

“Ano. I wanted you to see this, so I’ve been practicing since the competitions ended. Please watch me.”

Yuuri skates to the middle of the rink and takes position of Victor’s Stay Close to Me routine. Without his glasses, Yuuko is too blurry to see her reaction, but he doesn’t want to think too much of it. Instead he closes his eyes, hears the music in his mind and then he’s moving.

This is how he wants to skate again. True emotions on the ice, no worries or stress or anxiety. After the GPF, he’d forgotten how much fun he used to have with skating, before it felt like an impossible obstacle that was in his way, fighting against him and what he wanted. But then, he moved on and went back to his roots.

Copying Victor was always fun, and something about Victor’s Stay Close to Me routine spoke to him. Called to his soul in a way most other routines haven’t done in a long while. It was all thanks to Phichit really. Yuuri can hear his voice in his head, “if you’re not having fun, Yuuri, you have to make it fun. Didn’t you say you and your friend used to copy Victor’s routine? Why not try that out again?”

And he does.

When he strikes his ending pose, out of breath but energized, he feels light. He blinks, forgetting momentarily that he’s back home in Japan. For some reason, it’s only just hit him now. He’s home. He’s  _ home _ .

Yuuri startles from his thoughts by Yuuko’s excited cheer, her hands banging on the boards loudly. “Yuuri! That was amazing! A perfect copy of Victor! I thought you’d be depressed or something.”

He nods in response, skating towards her slowly. “I was…” he admits. “But honestly, I got bored of feeling depressed, so I got to thinking. I wanted…  _ needed _ , to get my love for skating back. And I would remember how it was when I copied Victor with you. Yuu-chan. I’ve always—”

He’s cut off when he sees Yuuko’s triplets pop up from behind the boards, staring so intensely he’s reminded of Yuri Plisetsky’s stare and he quickly pushes  _ that _ thought away.

“Axel, Lutz, and Loop!” Yuuko says pulling them close. “They’ve grown a lot since you’ve last seen them, haven’t they?”

“Y-yeah.”

Suddenly, the triplets burst into action. “Yuuri! You really did get fat! Are you really retiring? You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

He could barely keep up with their rapid fire questions but the ones he does catch have him feeling warm and red and he lets Yuuko shush them. “I’m sorry about them!” She says. Yuuri doesn’t have time to reassure her that everything is okay because an arm is hooked around his neck and he has a sudden flashback to being seven-years-old and roughhousing with Nishigori.

“They’re huge fans of yours, Yuuri. Welcome back!”

“Nishigori!” He says trying to wrangle himself out of the headlock.

It feels good to be home.

++

The next day, a light chime from his phone brings Yuuri out of his thoughts, his screen lighting up with a notifications from Nishigori. It’s a link. He waits for the youtube page to load and finds himself staring at a video of himself. A video titled “[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Victor’s FS Program [Stay Close to Me]”. Yuuri is yelling to the void, trembling. No one was supposed to see that except for Yuuko. And Phichit… and maybe a few others from the rink back in Detroit. But now…

Nishigori is calling him now, but the words barely register. “I—I’m sorry, Yuuri. The girls just uploaded the video, and it went viral.”

Yuuri is silent. He doesn’t know to what to say, and anything he could have says, he’s pretty sure he can hear Yuuko yelling it at the triplets. He feels the last of his energy leave his body and he slumps against the edge of his bed. “Goodnight,” he says as he shuts his phone off and lets it slip from his fingers.

Minako-sensei bursts through his door yelling but he just lets the darkness take him. He’ll deal with this tomorrow.

++

Yuuri didn’t sleep well the night before, his anxiety ramping up in face of the viral video. He spent most of his night tossing and turning, reaching for his phone and dropping it like it was on fire. Luckily, his family seemed to understand he was in one of his moods and let him sleep in. Yuuri is thankful because he thought his red string tugged sharply earlier that morning waking him. But when he woke up in his childhood bedroom, he realized it couldn’t have been Phichit and must have just been a dream.

He wonders if he can just stay in bed and ignore the outside world but his okaa-san takes the option away from him before he can even finish the thought.

“Yuuri, don’t hole up in your room all day. You can help shovel the snow!” She calls through his door.

He blinks wondering briefly if he’d heard his okaa-san correctly. “Snow?” He quickly shoves his curtains open. “What? In April?” He’s reaching for his phone to check the news when he notices it’s been shut off.

He hesitates, but powers it up anyway as he gets changed. Just as he’s zipping his jacket up, he can hear his phone come alive with vibrations and beeps. He dreads looking at the messages and ignores most of them in favor of Phichit’s.

[YUURI! u cant post on Instagram regularly but u can make a viral video without me?? Don't forget me when ur famous]

He snorts. He doesn’t know about famous, but he knows he’d never forget Phichit for anything in the world. His red string tugs. He sniffles lightly and wonders if he’s just so used to feeling Phichit’s string tug that the very thought of him bring on the phantom feeling. He misses his best friend. Phichit would know what to do. He sends off a quick reply and promises to make time to chat with him later.

For now he leaves his phone on his desk to focus on the snow. That was a light enough train of thought to dwell on instead of worrying over what the figure skating world thinks about his copying Victor. He notices his okaa-san left a shovel by his bedroom door and he picks it up as he heads down the stairs. He hears barking in the distance and sadly remembers Vicchan. His dog would have loved this weather, would have begged to be let outside to jump around and disappear in the piles of snow. He wonders if the dog is one of his neighbour’s— if someone in the neighbourhood got a new dog, maybe they’d let him come around to see the pup.

Yuuri takes a quick glance out the window and takes notice that his family has already started around the back. Deciding it is probably best to divide and conquer, he goes by the front to shovel and salt the front pavement again and clear the sides. The barking gets louder as he opens the front door. He’s surprised by the poodle that seemingly grins up at him, tail wagging.

“Vicchan?”

The poodle is much bigger than his Vicchan was, and he leaps onto Yuuri, knocking him over the foyer. Yuuri laughs as he accepts the doggy kisses and half-heartedly struggles away to get a better look at the dog. He freezes for a moment, but it has nothing to do with the cold. He could have sworn he’d seen this dog before. But he couldn’t have. This dog couldn’t be—he just…

“Isn’t he just like Vicchan?” his father asks with a chuckle as he walked by, “He came with a really good-looking foreign guest! He’s in the hot spring now.”

Yuuri’s red string tugs again. He blinks at his hand and scrambles to get to his feet. It couldn’t be. This dog. A foreign guest. He flees to the back, missing his otou-san’s question in favor of he’s rushing through the onsen. Nothing in his path slows him down as he shoves aside some of the furniture and slides into the indoor bathing room. Fog obscures his sight and he has to pause  to wipe his glasses clear. He hurtles towards the doors that lead outdoors to their most popular attraction. And he stands there.

Speechless.

Victor Nikiforov. His idol. His idol is here. Soaking in his family onsen.

Victor Nikiforov is also very naked and standing and he waves his hand with a flourish.

And that insistent tugging he’d been ignoring all morning is almost like a jerk at this movement.

“Yuuri, starting today, I’m your coach! I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.”

Victor Nikiforov is holding his hand out, winking at him. Victor Nikiforov  _ knows Yuuri’s name _ .

But all of that seems insignificant when faced with the fact that on Victor’s outstretched hand is a bright red string tied to his pinky that leads straight to Yuuri’s own.

Victor Nikiforov is Yuuri’s final string.

“W-what?!”


	3. PART THREE

No matter how many times he’s pinched himself or even how hard he’s pinched himself, Yuuri still find himself in this strange reality where his long time idol, low-key (read: high-key) celeb crush, Victor Nikiforov is in his home. Is his soulmate. His heart is racing but it’s a different kind of racing that can’t be compared to the feeling he gets when his anxiety rears its ugly head in.

He and Mari cleared out the unused banquet room in record time and she leaves him with a wink to carry all the boxes up. Just as he’s bringing the last one up, he sees Victor and Makkachin have finally been released by his parents and Minako-sensei venture into his new room. Makkachin, the cute dog is happily exploring the room, sniffing at the boxes.

“Wow! What as classic room. Is there a sofa?”

Yuuri lets out a heavy breath as he sets the box he’s carrying down. “No… I’m sorry it’s so small. The banquet room was the only one left available.”

He doesn’t know how to interpret Victor’s wink or the grin that shines his way. Maybe it’s a Russian thing? Or just a Victor thing? “You look anxious. You can pay the coaching fee after you achieve success! I’ll bill you later.”

“A-Ano. Thank you,” he says.

Victor is kneeling down to his height on hand reaching out to stroke beneath Yuuri’s chin. “What kind of rink do you skate at? What’s in this city? Is there a girl you like?” Suddenly Victor’s hand, the one with the red string is sliding down his arm and Yuuri freezes when Victor gently pull’s Yuuri’s hand, drawing them closer. “Before we start practicing, let’s build some trust in our relationship.”

Relationship. _Relationship_. The word echoes loudly in Yuuri’s mind and he flushes a deep red snatching his hand away and scrambling as far back as he can go, until he finds himself colliding with the opposite wall. Victor looks startled and Yuuri realizes he’s probably making a terrible first impression on his soulmate. As apparently that’s a trend with all of them. Horrible first impression.

“Why are you running away?”

“Eto… No… no reason?” Yuuri squeaks, too scared to get any closer. He needs space and some time to process everything that’s happening. He also needs Phichit. Phichit would know what to do he thinks as he scrambles to his room with a mumbled ‘good night’.

Victor is knocking at his bedroom door in minutes and Yuuri is thrown into a panic, back pressed agains the door as he eyes his bedroom walls and the extensive collection of posters he’s managed to accumulate over his teenage years. “Yuuri!” Victor calls between knocks, “Let’s sleep together. As your coach, there’s so much I need to learn about you.”

“No!” Yuuri yells back, ignoring Victor’s calls in favour of clearing out the posters as quickly as he could.

It’s suddenly quiet as Victor seemingly gives up for the night. Yuuri can’t help heaving a sigh of relief as he stares down at his poster collection. He’d put Victor on such a high pedestal— and now. Yuuri can barely come to terms with the fact that he’s here. That Victor is tied to him… he gently stores the posters in a folder and hides it in his desk before flopping down onto his bed.

His heart still racing. It’s pounding against his chest but it’s not heavy with stress. It feels light. He raises his hand to his face to look at his red strings. He’s happy.

When Yuuri wakes up the next morning he’s using only muscle memory as he groggily walks down the hall to go to the kitchen. He’s startled when the banquet room door is opened and Makkachin comes up to him happily sniffing at his knees. Victor soon follows looking fresh. Yuuri blinks and gulps down the yelp that wants to escape when he realizes yesterday was not an extremely lucid dream.

“Good morning, Yuuri! Ready to get some training today? Mari-san is lending me her bike while I’m here.”

“G-good morning, Victor.”

Victor indulges in a hearty breakfast from Hiroko while Yuuri internally whines as he can smell the deliciousness from where he sits, nurses his own diet-compliant breakfast.

By afternoon, Yuuri is wheezing after both Victor, who did indeed borrow Mari’s bike, and Makkachin as they head to Ice Castle. He doesn’t have the energy to take in the surprised expressions of the Nishigori family when they arrive but their exclamations were enough to fill in his imagination.

He lets Yuuko and the girls saddle up to Victor in excitement while Yuuri and Nishigori stay back by the boards to watch the shenanigans.

“He says he’d like to use this as our home base for now. Is that okay?” Yuuri asks him.

“Sure, I’ll talk to the higher-ups. But I doubt it’d be much of an issue.” Nishigori pats Yuuri’s back before wrapping an arm around his neck. “But Victor teaching you himself… it’s like a dream come true!”

Yuuri nods, remembering all the times he and Yuuko-chan followed Victor’s career and imitated his choreography. He wonders why and how his viral video could possibly inspire Victor Nikiforov of all people. He shrugs the thought away for now, not wanting to dwell on it around the Nishigoris or even victor himself.

Instead he makes his way to the training room the rink had and starts his work-out. Victor’s teasing voice on his mind. “ _The little piggy can’t enter the rink until he drops some body fat._ ” He spends most of his day getting back into routine under Victor’s supervision. When they go their own ways, Victor claiming he wants to explore the town, Yuuri takes that time to get to Minako-sensei’s studio.

Five years away from her studio didn’t wipe away the memory of what a persistent teacher she was. She’s testing him, ensuring he hasn’t lost anything while he was off gallivanting in the United States. By the 3 hour mark, Yuuri finds himself hunched over, clutching the barre for support. She was one of the very few who could wear him down with training and wear down his mental barriers enough to get him to talk about his nerves.

“Maybe he just wanted an excuse to take a break,” she says.

“Please don’t say that…” he whines. “I mean… I thought that too. But…”

Minako has a fire in her eyes. “You decided to keep skating didn’t you? You need to take advantage of Victor! We’re going to get you slimmed down in no time.” She’s twirling, leg straight and high in the air.

“O-okay.”

Yuuri frowns for a moment. Maybe she is right. and Victor was bored. But even so... Yuuri glances at his red string again. He’s here, and Yuuri will find out exactly why Fate decided to tie them together.

++

By the end of Victor’s first week in Hasetsu, the two of them have a routine.  Breakfast in the morning, and then, depending on the needs of the onsen, Yuuri helps around the home before he and Victor set out on their jog (or in Victor’s case, bike ride) to Ice Castle. Victor spends most of his time at the rink keeping up with his training, while Yuuri finds himself in the upper levels going through his work outs, still not “rink-ready”.

When they’re done at Ice Castle, it’s fifty-fifty whether Yuuri will join Victor in showing him around his hometown, or let him explore on his own and head to Minako-sensei’s studio for his cross-training.

This time, because the weather is nice and the mysterious snow-fall has melted, Yuuri brings Victor to one of his favourite workout spots. He’s jumping on a bench, while beside him Victor is taking in the cherry blossoms and playing fetch with Makkachin.

He still finds himself in a constant mixed state of awe and confusion. Victor is here. Victor is willing to coach him. Victor is his soulmate. No matter how many times he says that himself, it never ceases to make his heart race. He contemplates it, when he’s alone, exhausted from the long days’ worth of training. But he still can’t figure it out. Ever since he’d found out the possible meaning of his red strings, he’d hoped for the day he would find that special person like his okaa-san and otou-san.

Not that Phichit wasn’t special to him— because he was, Phichit is the best friend he’d dreamed of since childhood. But he knew early on that they were more compatible as platonic soulmates than as romantic ones. Yuuri tries not to think about Plisetsky, because that was a dark spot he doesn’t like to dwell on. But Victor… Victor was different. Victor was someone he’d looked up to, sometimes-possibly fantasized about… He had many feelings about Victor Nikiforov the 5-time Gold Medalist Figure Skater… but … he wasn’t sure what his feelings for Victor were just yet.

Victor’s question comes out of the blue. “Do you have feelings for Minako?”

“What? NO! Minako-sensei is family.” Yuuri flails, stopping his exercise to face his new coach.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Any ex-girlfriends?” Victor pries. And Yuuri flushed red because the only girl he’d ever had even the tiniest inkling of feelings for was Yuuko-chan but that was nipped in the bud very early on. After that, he’d had a few flings thanks to Phichit’s wonderful wingman abilities… but that wasn’t up for discussion.

“N-no comment!”

Victor pulls in close. “We can talk about me then! My first lover—”

“Stop!” Yuuri cries, not interested in learning about any of Victor’s former lovers when he’s still trying to decide on his own feelings.

Victor sighs face in his hands in defeat. Yuuri tries not to feel guilty but it’s hard when he knows he could have handled the conversation with a lot more tact. Victor has been trying to get to know him… but Yuuri’s been blocking him almost every step of the way. He’s about to start with something small, to at least build some sort of friendship with his soulmate, when Makkachin interrupts his train of thought by barking loudly behind them.

Victor seemingly took notice of their surroundings outside of his training and the sakura trees to the building behind them for the first time and asks, “Yuuri, what’s that castle over there?”

Yuuri blinks at the building that was a pretty popular tourist attraction. Perhaps it was time to take a break for the day and bring Victor around. “Oh. That’s Hasetsu Castle,” he says before going over a quick history lesson.

Victor is easily excited over the ninjas and Yuuri finds himself taking a photo of Victor and Makkachin. He watches with a smile as Victor is drafting an Instagram post and he finds himself missing Phichit’s over-enthusiastic use of social media. “We can go check it out if you’d like?” Yuuri offers.

Victor’s earlier pout is long forgotten and they set out to play tourist for the rest of the day.

++

Neither Yuuri or Victor realize the ramifications of Victor’s first Instagram post since disappearing from Russia until the next day. That morning, Yu-Topia is swarmed by fans and reporters alike and it takes most of the morning to get the ones who weren’t planning on staying as a guest of the onsen or the restaurant off the property. Victor on the other hand went to Ice Castle to handle the small crowd that had gathered there, where, with the Nishigori family’s help, he managed to keep them out of the building after a brief statement.

His okaa-san catches Yuuri just as he’s coming back into the Onsen after managing the crowd outside. “Try not to work yourself too hard and forget about your health, Yuu-chan,” she says with a reassuring pat on his back.

“I know, okaa-san. I’m just anxious to get back on the ice again,” he tells her.

She smiles at him, amused. “Have you weighed yourself? I think you’ve reached your goal. You certainly look competition-ready to me.” She’s waving at him to head back into the kitchen and Yuuri’s stares after her for a moment. He hadn’t actually weighed himself in a few weeks, so focused on his training and touring with Victor. He scrambled for his washroom to the scale where he does find himself to at his weight pre-GPF. This should be enough to appease Victor and get back on the ice! Yuuri is scrambling again this time to his bedroom to change into proper workout clothes before rushing to Ice Castle.

He’s rushing past the bridge and up the stairs and he can see a crowd still trying to get a glimpse of Victor. He’s running past the crowd and the triplets, slamming straight into the front door. A relieved and excited laugh bubbles out. “Finally… here.”

The triplets look back at him anxiously, but given the crowd he’s not too surprised. “Yuuri…”

“Girls! Guess what! My weight’s back to what it was before the GPF.” He claps his hands together not really acknowledging the warning hiss of his name from the triplets. “I’ll be able to get back on the ice now!”

As he’s pushing the front door open he’s sent sprawling across the entrance and smashing against the front counter. It’s a surprise his glasses don’t break on impact before he falls flat onto his back. He blinks up and barely has a second to take in his surroundings before a yellow and black shoe is rushing to his face. “Ow!”

Yuri Plisetsky is in Japan grinding his shoe on his face. Yuri Plisetsky is scowling at him, face shadowed in anger. “It’s all your fault,” he says, “So apologize.”

“Ah, So-sorry, sorry?” Yuuri replies on self-preservation instinct. What exactly was he apologizing for he wondered. But most importantly, why is Yuri Plisetsky here, calling him things he doesn’t understand in Russia? Plisetsky continues to grind his foot harder onto his forehead.

The kid tsks as he pushes away to lean against the counter. Yuuri can see the flash and tug of his red string before Yuri shoves his hands into his pocket and continues to glare at him from the distance. He’d felt the tugging all day, but with Victor in town, and the reporters swarming in, he hadn’t realized it there was slight movements from both of his strings. What was going on?

Yuri’s sharp angry voice cut through his thoughts. “He promised me first that he’d choreograph a program for me. What about you?”

Slowly sitting up and trying to rub feeling back into his forehead he stands. “We haven’t gotten to talking about programs or anything.”

Yuri stomps his foot down at the response. “Huh! You make him take a whole year off, and to do what?” He’s snarling and aggressively prowls toward him very much like Yuuri imagined the tiger on the kid’s shirt would do to his prey. “Isn’t getting him as a coach enough? As if a guy who’d sob in a toilet stall at the GPF can change at all just by getting Victor as a coach!”

Yuuri, who’d been backing away from the angry teen, stops at the mention of the GPF. The memory briefly plays in the back of his mind before he smiles to himself. This kid, no matter how much he seemed to hate him, was his soulmate… so there must be something more behind the glares and anger. It also helped that the kid was totally underestimating him.

“Stop smirking, fatso!”

“I don’t really get the whole picture, so you should ask Victor yourself,” he says. Yuuri stares the kid down. Even if they don’t ever reconcile, Yuuri would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least try to get to know his last soulmate.

They’re watching Victor skating on the rink and the sullen Yuri perks up in recognition. “That routine… they’re for a short program Victor was practicing for next season.” He walked closer to the rink to lean against the boards.

“What?”

“Victor was already putting together routines for next season. But he was really torn,” Yuri says. “Surprising the audience has always been his top priority. He had the whole world in his hands. But now, no matter what he does, no one’s really surprised anymore.”

Yuuri watches Victor land a triple salchow in awe. It raises the question again. Why was Victor here? If he was still planning on competing, on working on his routines… why give it all up to come to Japan over a viral video?

“Victor knows that better than anyone,” Yuri continued, “If you don’t have any inspiration left, you’re as good as dead. If he’s going to take next season off, I wonder if he’ll let me use his program. I know I can surprise more people. I’ll need Victor’s help if I’m going to make my senior debut and win the GPF.”

He looks at the blonde in surprise. “Win?”

Plisetsky ignores him in favour of yelling angrily, “You look like you’re doing great, Victor!”

Victor slows his skating and turned to the both of them in surprise. “Oh, Yuri! I’m surprised Yakov let you come. What do you want?”

The young teen is shaking in rage, an expression both angry and yet pouty on his face. He’s grumbling under his breath but Yuuri can’t understand Russian.

“Judging from that look, I’m guessing I forgot some promise I made!” Victor says with a wink and laugh. They let Victor come off the ice and slip on his jacket, his hand is reaching back to rub the back of his head in slight guilt, “Sorry, sorry. I totally forgot. But you knew I was the forgetful type, right?”

Yuuri blinks at the revelation because he’d never pictured Victor to be the forgetful type. The younger teen isn’t fazed as he stretches his arm out as though he’s blocking Yuuri from reaching Victor. “Yeah, I’m painfully aware of that. But a promise is a promise! You’ll choreograph my new program, Victor! Let’s go back to Russia!”

He tries to stop the gasp from escaping, but the thought of Victor leaving, of both of them leaving before he can get to know them, see what comes out from the red strings, has him apprehensive. He stares back at Victor, watching the other man reflect on his options.

“Okay! I’ve decided! Tomorrow, I’ll choreograph a program for the both of you to the same music I’m using in my short program,” Victor says with a snap of his finger.

The two of them stare back at Victor in surprise before springing into action pointing at each other in complete coordination. “Huh? The same music as him? The same choreography?” They ask in unison.

Victor shrugs. “No, this piece has several different arrangements. I was trying to decide which one to use. I’ll think of a different program for each of you, of course. I’ll reveal the programs in one week!” Then he’s pointing at the two of them, “You’ll compete to see who can surprise the audience more!”

Yuuri waves his hands in concern. “Wait— I don’t want to be punished for losing…”

Yuri on the other hand takes charge of the challenge and returns Victor’s point. “Victor will do whatever the winner says! If those are the terms, I’m in!”

Victor, eyes bright with excitement, has a heart-shaped grin. “Great! I love this kind of thing!”

Yuuri is still trying to get their attention, but he gets lost in the excitement when the triplets show up and take charge of organizing the challenge as an event. He feels his nerves coming back when they cement the idea of Hot Springs on Ice. This was not what he had in mind when he wanted his soulmates to stay longer.

++

Program themes chosen and the stakes set, training resumed with a little bit more intensity than the previous week. Although, as Yuuri thinks about Yurio (as dubbed by his sister), he supposed it was to be expected with the challenge hanging over their heads.

With Eros as his theme, he finds himself lost on what that means for him. It’s late at night, and both Victor and Yurio retired to their rooms. Yuuri though… Yuuri’s stressed and messaging Phichit in a panic.

Phichit, the blessed soul that he is, Skypes him. He wags his eyebrows when Yuuri answers the call. "Sexual Love, huh?" Phichit has that mischievous grin that normally would have meant trouble if they were in the same room. "Why are you having trouble with this, Yuuri? Just base it on your thirst for Victor."

Yuuri blushes hard and he can hear one of Phichit’s sisters cooing somewhere in the side because of it. “Phichit-kun!” He hisses. “I’m serious!”

"And so am I! Honestly, Yuuri. You’re overthinking things. Once you get that through that stubborn head of yours, I’ll be telling you ‘I told you so’, ‘kay?"

He buries his face in his hands, groaning in dismay.

"Sleep on it, Yuuri. But you know I’m right." Phichit chuckles.

Yuuri does know that Phichit is right. He usually is. But… he still hasn’t decided how he feels about Victor or the strings. Because yes, he does, as Phichit would put it, Thirst for Victor, the figure skater. As Victor, the person, the friend… He shakes his head breaking away from those thoughts. It wasn’t the time to be thinking on that.

His inner-conflict must have reflected on his face because Phichit is looking at him with concern. "Everything okay?"

He sighs and nods. “Yes, Just… it’s just a lot to think about,” he replies. He won’t tell Phichit about the strings just yet. Not until he has a better idea about them all. “I’m going to take your advice and sleep on it. I have training in the morning.”

Phichit nods in understanding. "I’m just a message away, okay? I miss you!"

Yuuri gives him a relieved smile. “I miss you too!” They end the call with a little wave and he rolls over on his side, staring at the time on his phone. Eros… He thinks back on the choreography Victor is teaching him. The role of a playboy bewitching women left and right… he doesn’t think he’d be able to do that any justice.

He sighs one more time, putting his phone away and closing his eyes. He’ll figure things out in the morning. Maybe. Hopefully.

And by hopefully… he didn’t mean to declare katsudon as the meaning of eros the next evening during dinner.

++

The end of the week is quickly approaching and he realizes that one morning when Victor pulls him aside before breakfast. “Instead of going to the rink today, I think both you and Yurio need to reflect on your themes some more. Spend the day training by the waterfall, and I’ll meet you at Ice Castle later in the evening.”

“Waterfall?” He asks, but Victor’s already heading out the door with Makkachin.

When Yurio comes down to eat, he’s livid. “He was serious about that waterfall?” Yuri spends off of breakfast grumbling about Victor, and temples, and waterfalls as he’s inhaling food in a speed that couldn’t be healthy.

Yuuri just shrugs wondering why he’s being forced to go too. As they’re walking though, he realizes this is the first time he’s truly alone with his youngest soulmate.

They’re staring up at the waterfall, Yurio’s ever-present scowl just deepens. “He wants us to stand under that?” He asks, “For how long?”

Yuuri glances at his cell phone. “Until it sinks in,” he reads from his latest text message from Victor.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Yurio huffed with his arms shoved deep into his pockets before dumping his bag onto the blanket Yuuri set down. “Let’s just get this over with.” They’re changing out of their clothes and Yuuri passes him a white robe. They toe the water before walking in and settling at the base of the falls, Yuuri helping a begrudging Yurio when he almost slips.

For the most part, they stand there in silence, the rushing sounds of the water blocking everything else out. Yuuri keeps an eye out on Yurio though. If there was one thing he’s learned from their little interactions, it was that the kid was stubborn. Probably almost as stubborn as Yuuri was, if he wanted to admit it to himself.

Yurio glances back at him with a frown. He looks like he wants to say something, but glances away instead. Another beat of silence and Yurio is glancing at him again. “I— Mari told me about your dog… and— uh.”

Yuuri freezes at the mention of Vicchan. It’s still a sore spot for him, the guilt lingering in the back of his mind even on the best of days.

“I’m sorry,” Yurio says before turning away again, ending the conversation.

“It’s… it’s okay,” Yuuri replies but he has a feeling the blond was apologizing for more than just the sad news of his dog.

Yuuri’s unsure how long they stand under the falls for, but from the blank look on Yurio’s face, it’s probably long enough. He calls for Yurio to no response, the younger of the two deep in his thought. “Yurio?” He calls again reaching for his hand. “Are you okay? I think we should call it a day and head to ice castle?”

“Oh. Okay,” Yurio blinks up in surprise and the expression catches Yuuri off guard. It’s strangely vulnerable. A look that seemed so foreign on the perpetually angry teen. Yurio looks away sneezing as he walks back to their things.

Yuuri watches him, wondering what he could do to see that other side of Yurio more.

The next day, when Victor still hadn’t arrived at Ice Castle, apparently tired and most probably hung over, Yuuri makes a move. “Ano… Yurio,” he calls to the teen who was making his way to the rink.

“Huh?”

Yuuri puts his hands together. “Please teach me how to land a quad Salchow,” he insists, “Please.”

Learning from Yurio was… an experience. But the longer they practice together, Yuuri likes to think he’s finally beginning to understand the underlying messages and cues behind Yurio’s angry insults and prickly attitude. And he thinks, maybe, he’s starting to understand why the Fates tied them together.

The competitive drive in Yurio was equally matched in him. They were similar in some ways. Driven, Determined, Stubborn. They didn’t like to ask for help if they knew they could eventually manage it themselves. If a friendship like one he shared with Phichit didn’t bloom from this red string, he thinks that maybe a friendly rivalry would be decent alternative, they seemed to motivate each other through competition well enough as it is.

++

The night before the Hot Springs on Ice, Victor cuts practice early. “I think that’s enough for today,” he says with a clap of his hands.

Yuuri and Yurio glance at each other and then Victor who’d been a near demon-coach almost all week. “Huh?”

But Victor is already skating away to exit the rink stopping just at the entrance to clean his skates.

“Wait. Why are we stopping?” Yurio following at a quicker pace than Yuuri does.

That’s when the triplets pop up over the boards. “Because we have a bonfire party at the beach!” they say waving their packs of sparklers in the air.

Yuuri blinks and notices that Yuuko and Nishigori are waiting by the lobby, coolers and bags resting on the counter. Then he gasps turning to the calendar and then back to the triplets. “Happy Birthday!” He says rushing forward to give the triplets hugs. Yurio looks grumpy but at Victor’s prompting elbow nudge, he mutters a reluctant greeting as well.

They make it to the beach just as the sun is setting. Yuuri helps Nishigori out by setting up the wood for the bonfire. Yuuko is setting up two blankets a safe distance away and hands out the packaged food everyone. “If you’re still hungry, there’s more in the cooler,” she says as she places it down between the two blankets.

After eating, one of the triplets pulls out their phone and some speakers to play some music. “Yuuri! Yuuri!” Axel says pulling him up, “You promised to do the fire dance for our birthday!”

“I did?” Yuuri’s eyes widen glancing between the triplets and Yuuko who’s giggling behind her hands.

“I may or may not have shown them that video from high school,” Yuuko says.

Yuuri’s misses Victor’s intrigued look because he groans into his hands. “Why?” he whines.

Nishigori is the one laughing now. “Well, you know how they are. They get something in their head, nothing stops them.”

“What’s the fire dance?” Victor asks.

The triplets clamor around Victor with their cellphones pulling up an old video they must have converted and saved to their phones. Yurio next to him tries to feign disinterest but Yuuri can see the teen leaning into the little circle they made to peek.

“Whoa, Yuuri~! That looks like so much fun! We should all do the fire dance.” Victor is standing now.

“Dance off!!” The triplets cry out, ripping open their packages of sparklers and handing them out to everyone.

“I’m going to sit this one out,” Nishigori says, waving his unlit sparkler from where he’s sitting.

Yuuko’s eyes are bright and she’s holding up her phone, “I’ll video it!”

Yurio stands abruptly glaring at Yuuri, “I’m winning this dance off,” he growls.

Yuuri just blinks at the sudden aggression. “Okay?”

Victor looks like his birthday’s come early, “I’ll choose the music!” he says scrolling through the music on one of the triplet’s phone.

A kpop song Yuuri recognizes because of Phichit is the chosen beat. He turns to the girls and sees the puppy eyes that stare back at him. He just can’t say no to that. Especially not on their birthday. Yuuri grins and lights the sparklers, then carefully hands one each to the girls before lighting his own. “Let’s do this!”

The six of them dance around the fire, twirling and jumping, the sparklers in their hands painting the night with light. Yuuri dances with Victor, dances with Yurio, dances with the girls. He’s happy and laughing. And as the night draws closer to the end, Yuuri already feels nostalgic because tomorrow, his soulmates might be gone.

++

When Yuuri wins the Hot Springs on Ice event, he’s ecstatic that Victor is going to stay by him, at least until the end of the GPF. But Yuuri is also sad, to see Yurio go, without saying goodbye. He sends the teen a text message, a thanks for teaching him the salchow when he didn’t have too.

 

"Don’t tell anyone" is the response he gets. And then an hour later, "I’m still going to kick your pig ass in the Finals so don’t think this is over"

 

Yuuri counts that as something knowing Yurio could have just flat out ignore his messages all together.

++

Yuuri practicing his jumps when Victor starts asking about his Free Skate music again. He’s still waiting on getting in contact with Ketty, so he’s hesitant to express his idea.

“You still haven’t chosen the music? Why can’t you trust your own decisions?” Victor asks. “Just try to remember something, like when a girlfriend loved you.”

“Huh?” His reaction sounds more frustrated than confused. Yuuri freezes in surprise a moment after realizing his less than pleasant response. Waving his hands he apologizes, “That right now. It’s just that I—”

“Oh, right. You’ve never had a girlfriend”

Yuuri looks away. Because it’s true. He never had a girlfriend. Never really dated seriously outside of the very few flings Phichit had set up for him, and he didn’t really count the very rare drunk make-outs during the Bradger days. He didn’t want to date seriously in the first place, always holding on to that hope one of his red strings would be something more. And now was his chance to find out, but… but who was he kidding? This was Victor Nikiforov, maybe the only reason they were tied together was because Fate knew Victor would help his career.

He turns away from Victor after practice, shutting down his request for a touring night. And again when Victor wants to join him in the baths. And again when Victor asks for the umpteenth time to sleep together. That time not even gracing him with a verbal response, just shutting his bedroom door behind him with a sharp snap.

Yuuri knew. His okaa-san told him even, from the very start, that the red strings didn’t necessarily mean a romantic soul mate. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He shouldn’t put so many expectations on these strings, and, like a normal human being, go with things as they came.

He skipped training that morning in favour of staying in bed. His okaa-san glances at him that morning with a seemingly knowing smile on her face. She pat his hand, the one with his strings, gently, reassuringly. Of course his okaa-san would figure it out. She usually did. She didn’t have to say anything. But he knew, from her eyes, that he was going about his avoiding tactic in the wrong way; and when she left, he cocooned himself within his blankets. A coward. He thought. He was a coward. He couldn’t bring himself to face Victor.

Victor didn’t deserve his attitude when he meant well. Yuuri knows he means well, but friendships… relationships was almost as touchy a subject as Vicchan.

He can tell Victor is close because of the way his red string is tugging more and more persistently. His bedroom door slams open with an angry force but when Yuuri finally works up the nerve to look at him, Victor just gave him a small smile. “Good morning, Yuuri. Let’s go to the beach.”

++

The seagulls are loud overhead and the sound of the waves did little to ease his guilt. They sit side by side, Makkachin between them. And Yuuri can see the staircase he sat at all the years ago when he realized his soulmates were most probably not in Japan.  It makes him anxious remembering that day. He pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them, hunching over to tuck his chin between them.

Victor too, looks pensive. “Ever since I came here, I’m reminded of St. Petersburg when I hear the seagulls in the early morning,” he says “I never thought I’d leave that city so I never used to notice the seagulls’ cries. Do you ever have times like that?”

“There was a girl in Detroit who was really pushy and kept talking to me. One time, a rink mate got into an accident. I was pretty torn up with worry… I was in the hospital waiting room with that girl. When she hugged me to comfort me, I shoved her away without thinking about it.” He says not looking at Victor, instead he focuses on the boat that sails by.

“Wow, why?”

“I didn’t want her to think I was feeling unsettled. I felt like she was intruding on my feelings or something, and I hated it.” He tries not to blush at his admission, “But think I realized that Minako-sensei, Nishigori, Yuuko-chan, Phichit-kun, and my family… they never treated me like I was weak. They all had faith that I’d keep growing as a person, and they never stepped over the line.”

“Yuuri, you’re not weak,” Victor says. “No one else thinks that, either.”

There’s a pause as they take in the breeze.

“What do you want me to be to you? A father figure?” Victor asks.

“No.”

“A brother, then? A friend?”

Yuuri hummed to himself in thought.

“Then, your boyfriend, I guess,” Victor announces. Yuuri jumps up from his huddled position turning to look at him, hands waving anxiously. “I can try my best.”

“No, no, no, no, no!”

He stood up, hands clenched in determination and a realization. He’d been putting all these labels on Victor. Victor Nikiforov, the gold medalist figure skater. His idol. His coach. His soulmate. But first and foremost. Victor should be Victor.

“I want you to stay who you are, Victor!” He declares. “And I want you to be yourself.”  

Both Victor and Makkachin look up at him but he doesn’t let their stares deter him. “I’ve always looked up to you. I ignored you because I didn’t want you to see my shortcomings. So… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you with my skating!”

Victor raises his left hand in agreement. It’s the hand with his red string. “Okay, I won’t let you off easy, then. That’s my way of showing my love.” They shake hands and smile softly.

When I open up, he meets me where I am, Yuuri thinks when Victor looks much more happy with their progress. They might not have done any training today… but it was long overdue to get some personal things straightened out.

++

After that day at the beach, friendship with Victor comes easier. While they wait for Ketty to finish the music, Yuuri has Victor teach him every jump he knows. That’s how they spend most training days.

Yuuri starts learning about Victor, his friend. Like how Victor has different smiles. He has the suave-charming one. It’s one Victor uses to charm the obaa-san down the road for an extra steam bun. There’s the media-ready one, the one Victor-the-figure-skater and now-Victor-the-coach uses when dealing with reporters and people he seems to be unsure about. It’s his least favourite smile because while his media-ready smile is bright, it isn’t warm like the rest of them. His best smile, the one that makes Yuuri’s heart race, is Victor’s very charming heart-shaped grin. It’s the one that adorns Victor’s face, it’s the smile that’s warm, and happy, and it reaches his eyes, his very soul, and it’s the smile Yuuri wants to see every day.

So, when Victor’s beaming that heart-shaped grin his way, saying there’s no harm in taking a weekend off, it takes everything Yuuri has not to swoon and sell his soul for that smile to always be directed at him.

“I’ve never experienced an authentic Japanese Festival,” is all Victor has to say with that accompanying grin, to have Yuuri drop everything and plan a night for the Festival.

He tries very hard not to think it’s a date. [If its not a date… y r u stressing?] Phichit asks via text message.

Panic has settled in by that point as he stands in front of his closet trying to decide what to wear. He wants to rip his hair out. Should he go traditional? Or casual? He whines to himself and wonders if he’d be better off burying himself underneath his pile of clothing than going on a not-date to the festival.

His phone beeps with another message from Phichit. [pls tell me ur not making a nest out of ur clothes. Is2g Yuuri, if ur attempting to hide in ur clothes & u ruin that v nice v expensive shirt u “borrowed” I will hunt u down]

“I don’t know what to wear,” Yuuri whines some more once Phichit answers his skype call. It was faster than text messaging.

"Wear your black pants. The ones I bought you in celebration of your very successful date with Sasha. I know they haven’t touch your body since you tried them on in the store." Phichit wags his eyebrows at him. Ever since Victor came into the picture, that seemed to be Phichit’s automatic response.

“Those probably won’t fit me anymore!”

"I doubt it. But in the rare chance that it doesn’t, you’ll just have to squeeze into them won’t you."

“Phichit!”

"Yuuri!" Phichit matches his whine down to the same pitch. "Seriously. I’m having a deja vu except we were discussing the meaning of Eros not a date outfit."

“It’s not a date,” he mumbles, “But… Fine.”

The grin on his best friend’s face is contagious. "You know I’m right. You wouldn’t have called me for outfit advice if you weren’t going to listen." Damn him and his all-knowing personality. "If you’re serious about it not being a date… go with your usual route of comfy baggy, hides your perfect booti-licious bod from the world, sweaters. Orrrr. You can wear that very nice very expensive button up shirt you borrowed and never returned with a black fitted tee underneath I guess. Leave it opened and roll up the sleeves. I dunno. That should be casual enough for you right? I mean, the accent of the outfit will honestly be that blessed ass of yours, so…" Phichit shrugs.  

Yuuri stares at his closet at the sweater he’d been leaning towards and then the button up he stole from Phichit. “Fine. Fine… you’re right.”

"You’re welcome. Have fun on your not-date!"

“Phichit!”

"I want all the details later."

“Phichit!!”

His soulmate laughs at him as he disconnects the call and Yuuri is left to just stare at his phone. Still… damn him for being right. As usual.

His phone beeps just as he’s reaching for the button-up and the pants. [I want pics] says the text message Phichit. Damn him. He thinks. But sends one anyway once he’s ready to go.

[(peach emoji)(eggplant emoji) (hearteyes emoji)] was the only response.

++

The festival is lively and watching Victor experience it is amusing to the nth degree. The Victor he’d imagined for most of his life had always been so suave, cool, and collected. But the Victor he’s gotten to know was more than that. There’s a child-like wonder in Victor’s eyes and it makes Yuuri appreciate the comforts of home he’d somewhat took for granted.

He lets Victor pull him from stall to stall, not quite holding hands, just a tug on his sleeve or a pat on his arm to catch his attention. Yuuri has never wanted to hold anyone’s hand before. Not really. But now, he just wants to reach out and lock his finger with Victor’s. Instead of giving in to the urge, he distracts himself by helpfully translating any menus or vendors that caught Victor’s eye and taking photos for Victor with all the glorious food shots. He’s just about to get their orders of dango when he hears Victor calling for him again. “Yuuri!” Glancing to the left, he can see Victor crouching down at a booth a few steps away. Quickly thanking the vendor he rushes over to see what caught Victor’s attention this time.

“What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri is peeking over Victor’s shoulder to see him hunched over a small pool of water with balloon’s floating around, elastic strings attached at the ends. “Oh, it’s a game. It’s called _Yo-Yo Tsuri_. See how the end of the strings have a loop? The vendor gives you a little, ano… like a hook to try and catch it and lift it out of the water. If you manage it, you can keep it. The catch is your hook is attached to a paper string? And when it gets wet, it’s weaker and breaks under the weight of the balloon.” He motions to the vendor to get two hooks and passes along the proper change. He hands one hook over the Victor and crouches down with him. A few children who are settled by the pool with them giggled when Victor tries and fails his first attempt with a pout.

“What color would you like?” Yuuri asks, still holding onto his hook.

Victor’s eyes widen ever so slightly and he grins. “A pink one would be nice~!”

Yuuri returns his grin and glances around the pool to find the best target. In moments he’s hooked through the tiny loop of a pink balloon and was handing it over to Victor with a stick of dango. “Thank you!”

He tries his best not to flush when Victor hugs him before tugging him to the next booth.

Just as the night is winding down, they’re sitting by the beach on the small hill with the rest of festival goers, all waiting for the fireworks. He’s stuffed and tired, nothing was left untested at the festival, between dango, and kakigoori, and takoyaki, and yakisoba, and he’s surprised Victor isn’t getting a stomach ache after everything they ate.

“Yuuri~” his name comes out as a lazy drawl that sent some sort of want in the pit of his stomach and Yuuri flushes a bright red trying to push that very unsafe thought away. This was not a date after all. “Let’s take a selfie together!”

Victor is pulling him close by the shoulders, almost cheek to cheek. With the phone camera app opened and ready, he snaps a few photos but doesn’t pull away when he was done. Instead, Victor brings his phone close so they could both look at the photos. Yuuri could feel the rumble of Victor’s chuckle. “As anyone told you that your blush is very fetching, Yuuri~.”

He tries his hardest not the flush even deeper. “Phichit and his sisters like to comment on it a lot.”

Victor looks him in the eye, heart-shaped grin spreading across his face. “Thank you for tonight.”

Yuuri has to glance away for just a moment to pull his emotions in check before looking back at Victor. “You’re welcome.” He says avoiding even glancing lower than Victor’s nose and his grinning lips. It is not a date and he shouldn’t be thinking about Victor’s smile. Or his lips and how Victor just rubbed on a small amount of his favourite lip-chap over them five-minutes ago. Or even about kissing those now slightly glossy and probably very soft lips so he could direct that bright smile at him more often.

He’s never been more thankful for the Fireworks to start when they did. The tension Yuuri was holding oozing out from him when Victor’s very intense stare shifted to the show.

A few hours later, when they’re both back home after the fireworks. Yuuri’s phone beeps with messages from Phichit.

[ (winking emoji) getting cozy on your not-date? ]

[ im pretty sure theres a pic thats supposed 2 b of a “food stall” but clearly the main attraction is you leaning forward to talk with a vendor & showing ur ass off to the world in those great pants ]

[ when I visit I want a not-date to a festival.]

++

Considering the last time he’d competed was at last year’s nationals (unless of course you included the Hot Springs on Ice), Yuuri could say he was happy with his overall performance. It was a far cry from bombing the previous year to the point where everyone thought he was injured.

And sure, he did smack his face in the boards, but coming in first, with a new personal best and actually having fun during a competition instead of letting stress take too much out of him… he was happy.

Well… he was until the press conference. He’s mostly embarrassed after that.

Yuuri never liked public speaking and a few things he disliked most about being a public figure in sports were press conferences and interviews. He never knew what to say or rather, he tended to insert foot in mouth and make a fool out of himself in one way or another. Phichit use to joke about taking a shot before going to either events to get some of that liquid courage going.

Part of him wonders if he should have just taken a shot before coming up on the platform. His declaration of his theme and his ever growing feelings and relationship with victor… Well… he could have definitely worded it a little differently. Perhaps it is best he didn’t have a shot after all.

Phichit is quick to send him a text message a few hours after the conference with laughing emojis.

[YUURI! im so proud of u. Coming to terms with ur feelings 4 Victor & declaring ur love 4 him on national television! u never did these viral things when we were in the same timezone. Im a little jealous!]

He hopes whatever translation Victor finds of the conference words things a little differently. He thinks with a blush. This is not how he wants to have this discussion with Victor.  

++

It feels like a Bradger all over again. Except instead of being in Detroit lugging their friends back, Phichit and Yuuri are in Beijing for the Cup of China currently lugging their coaches back to their rooms. Luckily they’re both on the same floor. “Thanks, Phichit-kun. Sorry about that,” Yuuri says lingering in the hallway after tucking a very clingy Victor in bed.

Phichit just laughs waving him off. “It’s okay. It’s just like the good old days. Do you wanna talk for a bit? We can go back to the lobby, by the couches?”

Yuuri nods with a smile. It’d been too long since he’d seen Phichit in person and he wants to take as much time as he can get between the competition to see him. They settle in a far corner of the lobby by the window on a small couch.

“So. Victor huh? Things are looking pretty cozy there,” Phichit says with his usual eyebrow wiggle and nudge.

Yuuri flushes. “It’s… it’s not like that.”

“Yet.”

“Phichit.”

His best friend shrugs. “You might not see it, Yuuri. But I know these things. Just trust me? If it’s not like that now, it will be like that in the future. Maybe it won’t be a forever thing, maybe it will. But I say take this with both hands and run for as long as you can make it.”

Yuuri looked down at his red strings, tugging them in thought. “I found my other red strings,” he whispers.

Phichit blinks. “You’re kidding. Please tell me one of them is Victor.”

He responds with a quick shy nod.

Phichit pounces on Yuuri in a hug. “Oh my god. Yuuri, you lucky bastard being tied to your long-time crush.” He chuckles, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I— I felt like it was a conversation better had in person. And… I mean, I don’t know how we’re tied… just that we are. Who knows. He could just be another platonic match.”

“Even so, I think this is great. And the other person? Any luck for romance on that one?”

Yuuri blanches at the thought of anything remotely romantic with Yurio. “No. No, none. Strictly platonic. He’s also underaged.”

Phichit nods in understanding. “How do you feel about it all? Everything. Competing again. Victor as your coach?”

Yuuri’s silent as he gathers his thoughts and compiles them neatly to present to Phichit. “It’s— it’s a little overwhelming.” He shakes his head. “Sometimes… sometimes I worry that my performance will reflect badly on Victor, and I can’t do that to him. But— but I’m happy Phichit. I’m really happy.”

Phichit pulls Yuuri closer into a tighter hug. “I can tell. I’m happy for you, Yuuri. I really am.”

Yuuri’s breath hitches. “But… Phichit. Sometimes being this happy… it scares me. Because what if… what if he leaves? What if he leaves and takes this… takes this emotion away with him?”

They’re both silent. “Well… It’s okay to be scared… and know that, I’ll be there for you. No matter what. Through everything, know that I’m with you one hundred percent,” Phichit says. “And for another… I’d kick his ass all the way back to Russia for you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s eyes shine with unshed tears and he smiles in appreciation.

“I’ve missed you. And your hugs. And surprisingly, I miss taking selfies with you.”

The selfie-king himself just grins. “It wouldn’t be a reunion without a selfie,” he says as he takes his phone out for a photo. “And you know I’ve missed you too.”

Everything is going to be okay.

++

The morning after the short programs, Yuuri finds himself in a whirlwind of anxious emotions. Phichit passed by his room after breakfast with words on encouragement and a hamster pillow in hand. “You can borrow it for now, comfort. You’ll do great today, okay?” Phichit says with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Victor watches them with curious eyes, but says nothing until Phichit leaves and Yuuri hugs the hamster close “You haven’t slept, have you?” He asks.

Yuuri glances up at him, eyes wide with worry. “I — I did! A little… bit?”

Victor taps his lips. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in time for some warm ups before the event starts, okay?” He pulls the blanket back over Yuuri and pats it reassuringly. “It’ll be fine. I always slept in until the last minute before competitions too.” Victor lays down with him and cozies up. “It’ll be fine.”

When warm-ups come around, Victor tells him to leave the jumps out. But Yuuri knows he has practice them. He has too, with everyone watching, he shouldn’t just skip them when he already has difficulty with it. Everyone is watching him, waiting to see if he’s even worth Victor’s time and energy as a coach.

He flubs them during practice and he can feel the judging eyes over him. It feels like Sochi all over again but there were higher stakes now. Who cares about his reputation when he put Victor’s on the line?

“Yuuri~” Victor calls, “let’s get some stretches in while we wait for you turn?”

Yuuri can only nod too worried that his anxious nerves will come out as vomit instead of words. Trying to focus on the stretching doesn’t help. Not when he can almost hear the commentators, the other skaters, the audience murmuring through his music. Their words  are loud and almost like a physical pressure against his head giving him a migraine.

He can barely hear what Victor is telling him but he has an arm wrapped over his shoulders and Victor is leading him down towards the car park in the lower levels. When they’re standing there, the noise lessens to a distant hum. He looks up at Victor but he can’t focus. “What are the current standings?” He asks looking back down.

Victor just holds his hands up trying to keep up the image of calm and collected. “First, let’s take deep breaths, o-okay, Yuuri?”

Instead of taking those deep breaths in, he takes his earbuds out. Victor is quick to move, hands clapping over his ears. “Don’t listen! Let’s focus on breathing.”

“Victor? It’s almost times. We need to get back,” he says pulling away to walk back.

“Yuuri.”

He turns back to look at his coach. Victor has a hand on his head, brushing his hair back from his eyes before resting it at the back of his neck, the whole movement tugs sharply at Yuuri’s red string. Yuuri knows that look. Knows that body language. He’s seen it a hundred times when he stares back at himself in the mirror. Disappointment. He doesn’t want that look directed at him from anyone, most especially from Victor.

“If you mess up this free skate and miss the podium, I’ll take responsibility by resigning as your coach.”

The words almost echo in the car park as they stand there, staring at each other in the silence. Tears well up in  Yuuri’s eyes before he could control them and he misses Victor’s startled reaction. “Why would you say something like that, like you’re trying to test me?”

Victor’s frozen while Yuuri’s resolve breaks. Victor tentatively reaches out for him. “I—I’m sorry, Yuuri. I wasn’t being serious—”

“I’m used to being blamed for my own failures!” Yuuri interrupts, “But this time, I’m anxious because my mistakes would reflect on you, too! I’ve been wondering if you secretly want to quit!”

“Of course I don’t!”

Yuuri shouts. “I know!”

Victor blinks before looking away, an unsettled expression on his face. “I’m not good with people crying in front of me,” he says running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what I should do. Should I kiss you or something?”

Yuuri’s “No!” is sharp, reverberating across the car park making Victor stand at attention eyes widening at every word that comes from Yuuri next. “Just have more faith than I do that I’ll win! You don’t have to say anything. Just stand by me!”

They stand there in silence again, for just a moment longer before Victor reaches out wrapping a reassuring arm over Yuuri.

They avoid eye contact nearly the whole way back to the upper levels and the rink. Yuuri knows his makeup was probably smudged, his eyes and nose were probably red, but it was too late to do anything about that now. He steps onto the ice and approaches Victor where he’s waiting by the boards. He takes a couple of tissues from the Makkachin tissue box to clear the his face before he starts his free skate. He watches as Victor reached out to take his tissues from him but Yuuri is feeling petty and he drops them just out of reach. When Victor leans over the boards to catch it, Yuuri deliberately reaches out and poked Victor’s head, knowing his coach is sensitive about his hair, and then he pats it before turning away to skate to the middle of the rink.

As the music starts, Yuuri lets the building tension flow out from him with every movement. A cry did usually help clear out his anxious thoughts. Stupid, Victor, he thinks with a small smile as he completes a quadruple Salchow successfully. He should be prepared for this much. It’s not like my mental weakness just started now.

Yuuri’s surprised by his energy given that he didn’t rest well the night before. He wonders what Victor would think if he changed the last quad to a flip instead of a toe loop.

There’s a reason for this string being tied to Victor. I want to become stronger… he thinks, I can become stronger. I can surpass Victor’s wildest imagination. He takes a risky glance at his red string.

And with that he jumps.

A quadruple flip.

He doesn’t land it but the rotation should be enough given the cheers he can hear from the audience. His routine is coming to an end, and he’s striking his pose, glancing first at his red strings then at Victor who is covering his face with his hands.

Then Victor is running to the exit.

Yuuri grins at he skates back to him. “I did great, right?” He calls seeing a small smile on Victor’s face. Just as he reaches the exit his eyes widen because Victor is jumping toward him, arms wrapping around him. And then everything goes in slow motion. His heart is racing from more than just the adrenaline from his routine. Victor’s close. So close, his eyes closing. And then, Victor’s lips are reaching down to meet his own. It’s a warm and soft caress and Yuuri can barely respond as time catches up with them.

They land on the ice with a thud, Victor being sure to cradle his head to protect it from impact. The cheering crowd is almost deafening. Yuuri blinks up at Victor. “This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you’ve surprised me.”

They share a look, one full of affection and Yuuri wonders how he’s missed this build-up.

++

Coming back from Beijing and being greeted with happy knowing smiles from his family has him flushing but pleased. His okaa-san welcomes them with a celebratory dinner of Katsudon, “I know you didn’t get gold, Yuuri,” she says, “But I think you won something else at that competition.” She smiles gently, patting his hand with the strings, and Yuuri knows his Ookaa-san has it all figured out.

Victor and Yuuri fall back into their routine of hard training, and while all of that stayed the same, the atmosphere is a complete one-eighty. They hadn’t kissed again, since Beijing, but there is always a lingering touch here and there, like when Victor adjusts his positioning for his jumps. Or Victor running his hand through Yuuri’s hair before they set out on the ice. Or Victor coating Yuuri’s lips slowly, with his favourite lip balm.

It’s a week after the Cup of China, that things outside of their training routine change. It starts first with Victor peeking in through Yuuri’s open bedroom door, pillow in hand, and Makkachin nudging through to come up to Yuuri. “Can we sleep together?”

Yuuri, who’s just been resting under his covers reading on his phone flushes red, but slides over to make room. He pats the small spot beside him. Victor comes close, tucking his head under Yuuri’s chin and wrapping an arm over his torso. Makkachin is quick to follow settling at the foot of the bed.

His heart of racing and he knows Victor can feel and hear it. “Is this okay?” Victor asks.

“Yes.”

Victor smiles. This is a different smile than ones he’d seen before. It carries the same enthusiastic warm feeling his heart-shaped grin has, but it was softer, smaller, although it still carries to Victor’s eyes, making them bright. This smile, is full of affection.

“Can I kiss you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri returns Victor’s soft affectionate smile with one of his own and then leans in, Victor meeting him half way. This kiss is just as soft, as the one they’d shared in China. But it’s also hesitant for just a moment. Then Yuuri presses deeper, returning the embrace the way he wishes he did during their first kiss.

When they break apart, they share a giddy look, Victor chuckling. After that, kisses came more freely.

A good morning kiss, soft and sweet before the sun is even peeking through his curtains. An enthusiastic kiss shared between breakfast and getting ready for training. Kisses they sneak in when (they think) no one is looking. A kiss when they’re surrounded by the familiar chill of the rink, just before training, during their five minute break, after training as they’re taking the familiar path back home to the onsen. And then every night, as the days go by, their good night kiss, gets just so slightly more heated, more passionate, before it dissolves into light pecks on cheeks, and noses, and foreheads until sleep takes over.

This happiness. Yuuri realizes, must be why the Fates tied him to Victor.

++

They head to Moscow in high spirits and Yuuri arrives in a competitive mood rather than an anxious one. If Yuuri has to prove himself to anyone, it is to Russia, to show them that he wasn’t a waste of Victor’s time. His brief interactions with Yurio has him smiling at the familiarity of the younger teen’s harsh word of luck… if he could even translate Yurio’s “You’ll suffer a miserable defeat here in Moscow!” as a wish of luck.

Everything is going well, almost too well. But Yuuri is quick to nip that anxious thought before it can grow to something worse. He has a strong start with his short program, playing up his flirting for the crowd. Flirting with Victor from the ice. But when the day is over, and Yuuri gets a call from Mari, he can’t help but feel a sinking sensation in his gut. Flashbacks to Sochi fresh on his mind.

He goes numb when Mari speaks to him as calmly as she could.

"Makkachin stole some buns and they got stuck in his throat. We’re at the vet now." she says, "But we’re not sure he’ll make it. I’m sorry, Yuuri. What do you want us to do?"

Yuuri knows Victor can’t stay. If there’s one thing he’d always regret, it was not being there for Vicchan. He turns quickly to Victor. “You have to go back to Japan,” he exclaims, “I’ll face the free skate tomorrow on my own.”

Victor tries to argue with him, insisting he has to stay, but Yuuri wasn’t having it. “Please, Victor. You have to go. You should be there.”

“You need a coach.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Victor has a hand to his face, brows wrinkling together in deep thought. When Victor looks up, he sees Yakov, Lilia, and Yurio approaching and his eyes light up with a solution.

++

Yuuri finds himself wandering by himself after the Rostelecom lost in thought. After having Yakov as a coach for the day, he can finally understand where Victor gets his coaching methods from. He chuckles to himself, a lecture at the kiss and cry. Honestly.

And then he sighs. He’s so close to the peak of his competitive figure skating career, he can almost see the gold now. The Grand Prix Finals will be my last chance, he thinks, staring out into the night. And even if I don’t win gold— his thought is cut short when something shoved him into the snow.

Looking up, he sees Yurio glaring at him, arms crossed in his typical angry pose. “There you are Katsudon. You made me look for you.”

“Oh, Yurio… You surprised me.” Yuuri ponders over the thought, if only he’d been paying more attention to the tugging of his string. It could have warned him of Yurio’s approaching kick. Yuuri briefly entertains the thought that Yurio would have made a great martial artist.

“What was that earlier? Stop creeping me out.”

That, must be in reference to his zombie-hug fest, Yuuri thinks. He’s already gotten a few laughing-emoji text messages from Phichit. Apparently there’s already video of it somewhere on the internet. He sighs, trying not to think about it.

Yurio continues on his tirade, “And what was that free skate anyway? You can make the excuse that you couldn’t do your best because Victor wasn’t there, but I was in top form and earned a new personal best, only to lose to JJ again. You have no right to feel more down than me, Katsudon.” The teen throws a brown paper bag at him, and it lands in his lap, “You can have it. It’s almost your birthday right?”

“Huh?” Yuuri takes the bag in hand, unrolling the top. “Piroshki?”

“Eat.”

Yuuri blinks. “Right here?”

“Just eat it!”

Yuuri takes a hesitant bite out of one piroshki. “Hmm? There’s rice in this…” he glances up to see Yurio grinning. An expression that he doesn’t see too much of. “Pork cutlet? And egg too? It’s a katsudon?”

Yurio’s grin is bright and contagious. “That’s right! My grandpa made them himself. Great aren’t they?”

Yuuri is surprised by this side of Yurio. This is the same glimpse he’d previously caught by the waterfalls so many months ago. He smiles. “Yeah, these are great.”  

They stand there in silence watching the traffic go by, Yuuri handing one piroshki to share.

“Yuri,” he says, “Thanks.”

++

It feels like the longest flight from Russia back to Japan. He couldn’t rest, or sleep. He just stared at the time on the monitor in front of him the whole flight. He needed to see Victor. Needed to know what happened with Makkachin. He just needed to be home.

He’s walking out of the tunnel when a dog’s bark catches his attention. Yuuri glances to the side to see Makkachin run up to the glass wall separating them, tail wagging eagerly to meet him.

Makkachin! Yuuri thinks looking up to see Victor notice him and stand from his seat and rush to the exit. Yuuri matches Victor’s run and shuffles impatiently at the automated doors when they’re preventing him from running straight into Victor’s arms.

He hugs Victor tight.

“Yuri,” Victor says, “I’ve been thinking about what I can do as your coach from now on.”

“Me too,” Yuuri pushes Victor back slightly so they can see face to face. “Please be my coach until I retire!” He declares.

Victor smiles, it was that same soft smile that was so full of adoration. Victor reaches for his hand, the one with his red strings, and kisses it. “It’s almost like a marriage proposal.”

Yuuri returns that smile and steps back into Victor’s arms for another hug.

“I wish you’d never retire, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen, surprised tears welling up, “Let’s win gold together at the Grand Prix Final.”

++

Their free afternoon touring the city of Barcelona brings on the usual tourist attractions and great food, though Yuuri spends most of it feeling happy. He can’t help but be reminded of that night a few months ago on their not-date to the festival… perhaps it had been more date-like than he’d wanted to admit at the time. But now that he and Victor were more than just friendly coach and skater, he felt less anxious when reaching forwards to wrap an arm around Victor’s or to interlace fingers as they walked through the crowded city streets

It’s late evening, after he and victor shared a very enlightening but also very exhausting dinner with most of the other skaters. He’d just finished his shower and changed into his sleep clothes when he drops down on the edge of the bed and buries his face in his hands at the thought of his brad-ger moment at last year’s banquet. He blushes red all the way to his ears realizing he must have made a huge fool out of himself in front of everyone. Everyone. And no one told him. How did it not get out into the news? He wonders why Ciao Ciao never told him? He groans and pulls away from his hands, his new gold ring glinting as it catches the light from the bedside lamp.

At least there was one highlight to his night. He lays back onto the bed and stared at his hand, at the ring, and his red string. He thinks about the smile he shared with Victor after they exchanged rings and promises. When the washroom door opens and releases a plume of steam, Yuuri drops his hand and turns to see Victor rubbing a towel through his wet hair. Both Victor’s ring and red string caught the light, captivating Yuuri and sends his heart racing.

“Yuuri~” Victor whines as he drops down next to him on the bed and cuddles close. “It’s so cold.”

“Want to share the bed tonight?”

“I thought that was a given.” Victor pulls the blankets down for them to scoot underneath before he shifts closer, taking on the familiar position of wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s torso, legs intertwining.

“Yuuri.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really not remember the night of the banquet?”

Yuuri tenses underneath him flushing red. “Ahh. No. I’m sorry, Victor.”

Victor chuckles though and just reaches for Yuuri hand to play with his fingers. “No need for sorry. It just… it all makes sense now.” Victor looks up at him. The lamp shade casting a nice golden glow in Yuuri’s eyes. “I thought I was being fairly forward… when I first came to Japan. And you rebuked most of my advances. It left me very confused, Yuuri.”

“I wish I remembered that night.”

Victor just tightens his hold on Yuuri’s hand. “You know… asking me to be your coach that night wasn’t the only thing we talked about.”

Yuuri blinks at him, brows knit close together. “Wh-what else did I say? I’m sorry if I embarrassed you Victor, especially in front of your sponsors, oh god… just thinking about it, it’s a wonder I haven’t lost any at this rate. I take after my dad after a few too many drinks. And when Phichit is around he either keeps those moments tamed or blows my filters wide open.”

He can feel Victor’s laughter rumble against him before he heard it. “You don’t have to worry. By this time, it was just us two in the hallway. Yakov was looking for your coach so you could get back to your room safely.”

“And… and what did I say?”

Victor sat up to properly look Yuuri in the eyes. His own blue ones shone with clear affection that Yuuri was sure his own eyes reflected back at him. “I didn’t really understand it, but you kept holding my hand,” Victor interlocked their fingers together, staring at their rings. “You told me, that Fate brought us together. Tied us together.” He pulls their hands up, kissing Yuuri’s ring.

Yuuri’s heart pounds against his chest and he sat up with Victor, eyes wide, any words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

“Honestly, I didn’t take your drunken ramblings to heart, but the thought always lingered. Because how did you know, Yuuri. How did you seem to know that more than a year later, you’d be someone to bring me a new meaning for life and love? Before you, all I had was figure skating. But now…” Victor kisses their hands again. “How did you know?”

Glancing down at their hands, at the rings and their intertwining red strings, Yuuri gulps. This is different. This isn’t a platonic soulmate for motivation reasons, or a life partner in crime. Yuuri switches their grip on each other’s hands, laying Victor’s on his palm to pull at the string tied there on Victor’s finger.

“It’s because of this,” he says. “You probably can’t see it. But I can.” He can’t bring himself to look Victor in the eye. “It’s a string, a knot tied right here on your finger and the end of your string ties itself into a knot around my finger.”

Victor smiles at him, his other hand reaching for Yuuri’s chin to bring his gaze up. “What does it look like?”

“Yours is red. And it’s bright and shiny. And I’ve had it for as long as I could remember,” Yuuri tells him, “I’d spent most of my childhood dreaming about you. Who you were, what you looked like. And then I spent my time idolizing you, trying to catch up without even realizing you were who I was dreaming about.”

Yuuri leans forward pressing his forehead against Victor’s. “I don’t know what I was thinking that night of the banquet, when I first saw your string and mine were tied together. But I can tell you, that day you showed up at the onsen, I was nervous. Excited. But mostly, that night, even though I didn’t know what our string meant, or where Fate would take us, I was happy for the first time in a while. I thank you for it, Victor. For everything you’ve given me.”

Victor pulls him close for a kiss.

“Thank you, Yuuri. For being the one that Fate tied to me.”

++

When Yuuri wakes up the day of the GPF short programs, he feels a flurry of emotions that take him a moment to process. He’s excited, that he can redeem himself from last year’s performance. Happy that Victor brought him this far. But also… Yuuri’s sad. Sad that this was coming to an end sooner than he wanted too. Victor did say it was only until the GPF… and he wouldn’t… he couldn’t force Victor to stay on as his coach when he can see, that Victor misses the ice. That keeping him on as his coach was only going to hurt Victor in the long run.

Yuuri can see the nostalgia in Victor’s eyes, especially when they watch their friends and competitors skate their hearts out on the ice. It’s a soft and somber expression that pulls at Yuuri’s gut. He’s selfish for keeping Victor away from the ice, for keeping him for himself. For holding Victor back.

And maybe it was best to just… let go.

He fidgets with his red strings. Something he realizes he hasn’t done much off after Victor came into the picture. Thinking about how much Victor’s presence calms some of his nerves was not helping his situation. Not when he’s decided a clean break was better now than later.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Victor asks.

It took almost everything he has not to flinch, to show his emotions, to show the weight of this conversation on his shoulders.

“After the final… let’s end this,” he says avoiding eye contact to continue fiddling with his string and ring.

“Huh?”

Yuuri just plows through the conversation. “You’ve done more than enough for me, Victor. Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I have to my last season.” He bows forward, “Thank you for everything Victor. Thank you for being my coach.”

The silence is stifling until Victor’s sniffling fills the room surprising him. He looks up to see Victor’s eyes glistening with tears and he has to ignore the way his gut clenches at the sight.

“Damn. I didn’t expect Katsuki Yuuri to be such a selfish human being.”

Yuuri hid a flinch because he deserves that. He is selfish. “Right. I made this selfish decision on my own. I’m retiring.” He reaches up to brush back Victor’s hair but it is smacked away.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m just surprised to see you cry.”

“I’m mad, okay?”

Yuuri frowns. “You’re the one who says it was only until the gpf.”

“That was before—”

Yuuri looks away. “Aren’t you going to make a comeback?” He glances back down to his lap, at his strings, and wonders if a bad enough fight would ever make it disappear. “You… you don’t have to worry about me.”

Victor’s voice is angrier than he’d ever heard it. “How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you’re retiring?” he leans forward to grab at Yuuri’s shoulders forcing the other man to look at him. “How can you tell me to end things after the Grand Prix Finals?” Victor’s hand brushes his arm and grabs Yuuri’s hand, both their rings glinting with the light. “After you’ve given me this?”

Yuuri has no response.

“You said Fate tied us together. So why are you trying to tear us apart?” Victor’s tight grip on his hand loosens. The fight in him draining as quickly as it came. “I’m here with you, Yuuri. If you’ll just let me stay by your side.”

“I can’t make you happy, Victor.”

Victor looks outraged at that response. “How can you decide what makes me happy, Yuuri? I decide what makes me happy and that’s you. And you’re not even giving us the chance to try.”

Victor lets go of Yuuri’s hand completely, a frustrated sigh on his lips. “If… If you’re so set on ending this. You can tell me after the results. and… and I’ll let you know if I decide to come back to figure skating.”

Yuuri’s fingers twitch with the need to reach out and hold Victor’s hand, to tell him everything he said was a mistake. That he wants them to stay together even after he’s retired, so that they could grow old together, build a home and a family together. But he refrained, curling his fingers into tight fists instead. “Okay. Tomorrow. After the free skate,” he agrees. He doesn’t look up.

Victor stands and walks over to the other bed. “Goodnight then, Yuuri.”

Yuuri doesn’t turn to him. “Goodnight, Victor.”

++

Guilt is the emotion Yuuri wakes up to the next morning before his alarm. Guilt because he let his stubborn anxious nature rear its ugly head in and instead of trying to talk things through with Victor, he pushes him out. Like he pushes everyone out when he feels vulnerable. He rolls over to see Victor is still in bed, though his back is to him. It’s the first night they hadn’t shared a bed since Beijing and it left Yuuri feeling lonely.

He rolls back onto his stomach and turns his head to stare out the window to see the sun hadn’t even come up yet. Despite everything. He knew he was right. Keeping Victor Nikiforov away from the ice was just going to kill him as a competitive skater. Especially when he knows deep in his soul that Victor still has the drive to keep going. That Victor wants to keep skating.

Yuuri closes his eyes, blinks back the tears that well up. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want us to end. I never want us to end this, he thinks, his hand coming up so he can kiss his red string and golden ring. I want this. For forever. I want this… if he’ll have me.

++

When they’re at the rink later that day, things between them are sombre as they keep a small distance apart. It felt like worlds to Yuuri, who’d gotten so used to being nearly attached to Victor’s hip for months now. He’s made his decision but at Victor’s firm look that morning, he knows they’ll keep their discussion until after the skate. It wasn’t long now.

“Yuuri,” Victor calls after he steps onto the ice. He reaches for his hand and gives him a smile. It’s small, not nearly as bright as the smile he’s grown to love. There are no other words exchanged, just a look with a hundred meanings in each other’s eyes and smiles.

Yuuri reaches over for a hug, his hands gripping Victor’s jacket and he doesn’t want to let go. But he does, and then he’s skating towards the middle of the rink. He ignores the announcer and the cheering crowd and takes a deep breath in. He couldn’t tell Victor earlier that he’d made a mistake, that he was wrong. But he could show him.

The music starts and Yuuri lets his emotions guide him through his performance. He’s figured out what he wanted and he’s going to tell them. Tell Victor and his family and his friends, tell the world, that he’s thankful for everything they’ve done for him. That he truly understands love and without them, he wouldn’t be who he was today. He tells Victor through his skating, that he doesn’t want it to end here. That he wants to be in figure skating with Victor forever. That he wants to be with Victor forever. He isn’t going to wait anymore. He’d done enough waiting for a life time.

He barely realizes that his skate his over and he’s already at the kiss and cry waiting for his score. Victor is holding his hand tightly as it’s announced that Yuuri’s score surpassed his own long-time world record.

Victor chuckles. “Congratulations, Yuuri! Having both you and Yurio beat my records is the ultimate bliss as your choreographer and coach, but it’s the ultimate diss as a competitor.”

Yuuri pulls back. “Huh? Does this mean you’re coming back?”

Victor responds with a non-committal hum. “I thought we were going to talk about this after the results?” He stands from the Kiss and Cry bench so they could get a better view of Yurio’s skate.

Yuuri launches a hug at Victor and ends up knocking him down. No more waiting, he thought, leaning his forehead against Victor’s and ignoring everyone else around them. Right then, it’s just the two of them.

“No. I’m ready,” he starts. “I’m sorry. For everything I said last night. I was wrong. I don’t want to end things. So please. Stay with me in competitive figure skating.” Victor’s eyes widen but Yuuri keeps going. “Please. Stay close to me, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Victor’s heart-shaped grin is back. “I’ll stay with you, in competitive figure skating, but your coaching fee will be for you to become a five-time world champion, at least,” he says. “And… I’ll stay close to you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri leans in to press a kiss to Victor’s lips. Soft and gentle but full of every happy emotion he can convey.

“I love you, Victor.”

“I love you, Yuuri.”

 

(Yuuri carries the high of their confession with him for the rest of the day. Even when he steps off the podium with his silver medal. Yurio yelling at him just makes him chuckle. “I hope you know that if you retire now you’re pathetic!”

“I’m not retiring.” Yuuri says amused by the way Yurio shows his affection.

Yurio falters in his tirade. “Well... Good then.” The teen glares at him when Yuuri tries to reach over for a hug. “Don’t even think about it.”

Everything is going to be just fine.)

++

It’s in the very early morning of the exhibition skate. Yuuri finds himself wide awake, Victor still asleep against his side. He fiddles with his string for just a moment before he turns to face Victor and cuddle into him.

“Hmm. Good morning,” Victor’s voice is rumbly in the mornings.

“Good morning.” Yuuri presses a kiss to Victor’s forehead. “I was thinking…” he starts.

Victor groans and then chuckles. “That’s dangerous. The last time I left you to your own thoughts, you wanted to break up.”

Yuuri pouts. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’ve forgiven you. I’m also sorry. That I couldn’t communicate it better too.”

Yuuri kisses him on the lips this time. “I forgive you too.”

Victor grins. “And what is my Yuuri thinking about this morning.”

“Oh. Ano… The exhibition skate,” he replies, “I want to change it.”

Victor blinks and sits up. “But it’s today.”

“I know.” Yuuri follows in suit and sits up as well. “But I want to change it. I know we’ve only prepared it for fun. For ourselves…” Yuuri smiles softly leaning forward to touch foreheads. “But, if you’re okay with it. I want to skate Stay Close to Me… I want to skate it with you. Like we practiced at Ice Castle.”

Victor’s eyes widen.

“My gift to you. Because you’ve given me so much. I want to give back. I want to show you and everyone how much I love you, Victor.” He presses another gentle kiss against Victor’s lips and it’s more than reciprocated.

“Yes, Yuuri. Of course I’ll skate this with you.”

Yuuri revels in the ripple of surprise that courses through the audience when Stammi Vicino on comes through the speakers. And then Victor’s on the ice with him, and it’s like they’re home, skating the routine in Ice Castle, their red string dancing with them.

Yes, Yuuri thinks, I’m ready now to share my love.

This is why Fate tied us together.

 

++

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I enjoyed writing it~  
> :)


End file.
